The Game of Seven
by Anna Whitlinger
Summary: The number seven has always been mysterious, a number with a prophecy, with a unique type of magic. The God we do not know is waiting. Seven players have found themselves trapped in Kiku's popular RPG, and in order to survive, they must destroy the Errors and face the ruthless Creator of seven deadly faces.
1. Crimson Dancer

**Hello, readers. Thanks for choosing this story. :] ****I posted this mainly to announce something important, which I will mention at the bottom. Yeah, you're probably gonna scroll down to read it now...**

**Those of you who are still with me, this story was not inspired by RomaHeta, because no, I have never watched it before. This story was, in fact, inspired by a fanfiction inspired by RomaHeta. I'm guessing that the main idea of RomaHeta is similar to this fanfic's. **

**There's nothing more I have to say, so enjoy. :) **

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**part I: the game**

**Chapter 1: Crimson Dancer**

_Crimson Dancer_

_Owner: Alfred F. Jones_

_World Three_

_Type: Double-edged flaming longsword_

_Slashing damage: 7000_

_Heat damage: 3000_

Kiku Honda was Japanese and lived in the heart of Tokyo. Unlike your average teen, he was very quiet and extremely polite, speaking only when necessary. A boy of sixteen, he had a slight figure, dark translucent eyes that gave away nothing and black hair that fell into those eyes.

He had enough friends. They came over to his place occasionally and joked with him at school, but it was nothing special. Kiku's best friend, the one he was truly fond of, lived ten thousand kilometers away in the faraway land called England. He would get in touch with this friend, Arthur, through Skype and email. The two were of the same age and shared many interests.

Arthur Kirkland was British and lived in London. He was the president of the student council at his school, despised by some and admired by others. His most distinct trait was his amusingly thick eyebrows that hung over sharp green eyes. They would furrow when he was confused or thinking hard, rise when he was surprised or delighted and sink when he was angry. Arthur was very good friends with Kiku, and they often talked and fought together in online RPGs that the Japanese boy had created.

In one particular game, Kiku's favorite of all he had invented, there was a tower that neither he nor Arthur could enter. It was guarded by a dragon that woke whenever a foe approached. Being the creator, Kiku had good knowledge of the RPG and knew all its secrets; however, he could not seem to land a single blow on the dragon and the key to the gate would shatter whenever he tried to use it. He concluded that it must be a glitch.

Arthur watched his friend struggle with the obstacle, unable to be of any use. "Try a different weapon," he suggested in the chat box.

Kiku frowned. "No, I've already used the strongest in this game."

He couldn't think of any solution but his trump card. That would result in disaster, however, perhaps even ruin the game system. But it could allow them to pass through.

Just as Kiku was about to type in the code, someone appeared on the screen. He was a Knight and had set his role in the RPG as "hero."

"'Sup, dudes!" the Knight greeted them, and turned to Kiku with interest. "Hey, aren't you the creator?"

"Yes," Kiku answered. "My name is Kiku, and this is my friend Arthur."

"Hello," Arthur said to the Knight.

"I'm Alfred, the hero," Alfred said. "I came here to try out this new weapon I got. It's got up to 10000 attack power. Sweet, huh?"

Kiku blinked. That wasn't possible. The strongest weapon in the game could only do 6000 damage, and there was only one, which he owned.

Alfred brought out a huge sword etched with neon blue designs. Crimson fire licked at the blade and the edges were deadly sharp. Brandishing the sword, he took a swipe at the dragon.

In one clean slash, the dragon exploded into a million golden shards.

"Impossible," Kiku said, amazed. "I never designed such a powerful weapon. Where did you obtain this item, Alfred?"

"I killed the Shadow Lord," the Knight replied. "You know, the one that lives on the 77th floor of the Fire Tower."

_There is no Shadow Lord, _Kiku thought. _The 77th floor has nothing but ghosts._

"It might be a glitch," Arthur said. "This game _is _very complicated."

Alfred looked down at the sword. The flames had turned bluish-green. "Nah, this? That can't be. What kind of glitch would cause the game to create such a badass weapon?"

"It could be that the system is developing on its own," Kiku said thoughtfully. "Technology has no boundaries."

The self-proclaimed hero grinned. "Whoa, seriously? Way cool!"

While the three players were talking, a second party was hiding behind the trees listening to their conversation, one of them carrying a weapon much more powerful than the Knight's.

. . . .

In Milan, Italy, there lived two brothers named Feliciano and Lovino Vargas. The pair were polar opposites; the younger brother, Feliciano, smiled constantly and never failed to be optimistic. His brother Lovino, on the other hand, had a dirty mouth and scowled as much as the younger smiled.

Feli had discovered the RPG Seven Faces of God, made by Japanese high school student Kiku Honda, in an online gaming magazine. He'd told his brother about the game and, because of its positive commentary and remarkable fame, they tried it out for themselves.

The rules of the game were simple. There were seven worlds, connected to one another by six gates. In the seventh world lay the seventh gate, and past that was the infinite world Heaven. The goal was to make it to Heaven and face God. No one had ever gotten that far, so no one knew what happened after Heaven. Because Kiku hadn't confirmed that the game was won if players made it to Heaven, everyone assumed there would be a great secret or something amazing on the other side. That was the reason why the game was so addicting and its players so determined.

Feliciano was one of those players. Lovino said he only played because there was nothing else to do during summer break, but Feli had caught his brother sneaking out of bed to play into the depths of the night more than a few times.

The Vargas brothers' parents had gone on a month-long business trip and hired someone to bring groceries once a week. Feli and Lovi had the entire mansion to themselves and absolutely nothing to do.

"Seven Faces?" Lovi asked, as he half-heartedly browsed through food magazines in the study.

"Okay," Feli agreed, and they headed to the gaming room. In Seven Faces of God, or SFoG, the brothers were currently in the third world; impressive, since many could not even pass to the second. World Three was medieval-themed. Looming castles and towers could be seen in the distance and vast forests blanketed the realm. Daytime and nighttime were thirty minutes each, and when evening came the moon rose high into the sky as the main source of light.

Feli was a Priest and Lovi a Mage. Lovi didn't understand why his brother chose to be the weakest of classes, but Feli said it was because Priests helped those in need and did good things. There was nothing the older could say to that, so Feli remained a Priest.

The brothers were traveling south to the Fire Tower. In the medieval world, there were five main towers, each consisting of 100 floors. The Ice Tower was in the north, the Wind Tower in the east and the Earth Tower was in the west. In the middle was the Sky Tower, where the gate to the fourth world lay. On the 100th floor of the Wind Tower, Lovi had obtained a powerful wand that could do 26000 magic damage. He had been able to kill all the enemies he'd met so far using the wand, as well as some really high-leveled ones.

As the two made their way out of a semi-large forest, a new conversation appeared in the chat box.

"...new weapon I got. It's got up to 10000 attack power. Sweet, huh?"

There was a soft _whoosh _and the sound of something exploding was heard. A dragon scale landed at Lovi's feet.

"Impossible," another player, Kiku, said. "I never designed such a powerful weapon. Where did you obtain this item, Alfred?"

"Isn't Kiku the creator?" Feliciano's eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Wow, I can't believe we found him!"

"Must be one cool bastard," Lovino said. "But did he just say he never designed such a strong weapon?"

Both eyes moved to Lovi's on his screen.

"Glitch," Lovi decided. "We were lucky, that's for sure." The brothers grinned at each other.

In the distance, the Sky Tower suddenly brightened, its light spreading through the night and blotting out the stars. The sky crackled with electricity and directly above the tower, a whirlpool formed, similar to a portal.

"What's going on?" Feli asked.

"It's probably an update or something," Lovi said, fascinated by the sight.

Everything was perfectly fine until the alarms in the house went off.

_ERR ERR ERR ERR _

_EEEOOO EEEOOO EEEOOO_

They sounded simultaneously, wailing and screeching their warnings. The screens in the gaming room began flashing _ERROR_ in red block letters. Water exploded from the fire sprinklers; the windows and doors flew open and the lights blacked out, sending everything into darkness except the screens, which were still flashing red.

"What's going on?" Feli asked again, with fear this time.

"It's probably the fire system breaking down or something," Lovi answered uncertainly. "Did you burn the pizza again?"

"Hey, last time was an accident!" Feli protested. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know. Wait?" Lovi's eyes shifted to the gaming screens. "Something's wrong with the computers, too."

The alarms screamed louder, frightening them. And when the ground began to shake violently, they could only grab on to the nearest thing to steady themselves and pray for the earthquake to pass.

It didn't. Instead their world brightened, until all they could see was a blinding light, and that was when they felt the pull and the invisible hands that grabbed their arms and legs, when they saw the portal and knew that everything, _everything_, was going to change from that moment on.

_End of Chapter One_

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**How do you like it? If you've read my previous stories, do you think my writing style changed? I sort of feel like it did. I mean, I never type long paragraphs. They're kind of annoying in my opinion.**

**If you're reading this because you read to the bottom, yay. :D If you're reading this because you skipped to the bottom, well, okay. So, here's the big news:**

***drumroll***

**Geirdriful, my FF buddy, and I are making a Hetalia RPG! It's going to follow the storyline of this fanfic. She's doing most of the art and I'm doing most of the programming. Our awesome friends are helping us with the music. If you would like to help make some art and music, send me a PM. Of course I'll say yes. =D **

**Most of you have probably heard of Dreamtalia. It's cool, huh? A little while before I heard about it, I dreamed of making my own Hetagame. But then I thought, meh, that'd be impossible. After I learned about Dreamtalia, though, my idea began to seem more real. And thus, a new project was born. **

**That's about all I have. PM me if you want to help support it. Please promote our game and tell your friends about it! We'd appreciate that very much. ^^ Otherwise, wish us luck! :)**

**See you next time~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	2. Snowstorm

**Hi again! This is the second chapter. You see, I am trying to keep my chapters short and simple. **

**The RPG chapters will be every two chapters of the story. **

**Enjoy. :)**

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**Chapter 2: Snowstorm**

_Snowstorm_

_Owner: Lovino Vargas_

_Type: Medium-length ice wand_

_Magic Damage: 20000_

_Cold Damage: 6000_

Lili Zwingli was never one to show interest in online gaming. Yet on this particular day she found herself surfing the web, looking for a roleplaying game intriguing enough to cure her boredom. So far, she had come across nothing particularly exciting.

Her brother Vash had a strange fascination with guns and had a number of shooting games installed in his computer. Lili didn't think much about them. If she were to choose, she'd pick something less action-packed, with more of a storyline.

As she studied a list of the year's top RPGs, she remembered something her friend Michelle, whose hobby was designing games, had told her last week.

"Did you hear about the Japanese guy named Kiku Honda?" Michelle had asked over the phone. "He's so incredible!"

"No, I haven't," Lili had answered. "What about him?"

"He created a lot of amazing RPGs," Michelle had said, excitement laced in her voice. "One of them became especially famous in the gaming world. I think that one's called Seven Faces of God. And guess what? He's only two years older than us!"

_Kiku Honda_, Lili thought. She pondered for a moment, then typed "Seven Faces of God" in the search engine.

The first result offered everyone a chance to play Kiku's Seven Faces of God online, completely free. The virus detector in the computer didn't sense anything risky, so she clicked on the link.

_CONGRATULATIONS! You are the 7777th person to visit this website. As a reward, you have been upgraded to first class and have the opportunity to play SFoG as a VIP! Click below to retrieve your prize!_

It sounded a little strange, but Lili felt herself wanting to click the link. Something was behind it, she knew. Something extraordinary.

Lili looked around the study. Outside, the summer day was a scorching 43 degrees. Vash was working at the local bank as an assistant, and their parents were out doing this week's shopping. Michelle was busy designing a new game in a club full of designers just like her. There really was no one to talk to. She could read a book or knit something for Vash, but on this day, she was going to try something new.

Lili moved the pointer over the link and clicked. If someone had been studying her facial expressions after the page loaded, they would've seen surprise, shock, fear, then amazement.

And then they would have seen nothing at all.

. . . .

Antonio loved to dream.

Just a week ago Gil had told him about lucid dreaming. It was possible, Gil had said, to control your dreams and do things in them you couldn't do in real life. Of course, it took time, and practicing. Antonio began doing reality checks one or two times a day and keeping a dream journal. He'd always been keeping one, though, except he started paying a little more attention to detail.

Summer had begun. His days were filled with beach parties, large amounts of flirting and doing dares with Gilbert and Francis. His nights were filled with dancing in nightclubs, drinking (which usually resulted in attempting to drag a certain drunk German home), random hookups, and of course, dreams.

Antonio woke up with the sun shining in his face and a beautiful girl lying across his chest.

He remembered her name was Carrie. She liked singing and had lips that tasted like bubble gum. But other than that, he didn't have a clue who she was.

Carrie's eyes fluttered open and she smiled lazily at Antonio. "Morning, sexy."

"Buenos días, nena," he said, knowing that girls loved to hear him speak Spanish, his native language.

Sure enough, her eyes brightened. She got up, yawned, and stretched, blonde hair tousled, yet still artfully tumbling down her back. Antonio followed after, getting up from the bed and stretching, running a hand through his messy brown hair. He grabbed some boxers, a T-shirt and jeans and put them on, while Carrie dressed in more feminine clothing.

She took her purse, which was sitting quietly on the chair in the corner and had witnessed everything that had happened in the room last night, and spent a moment fixing her hair and applying lip gloss. Antonio opened the door for her and together they left his bedroom. He took one last look at the wrapper on the carpet, the rumpled sheets, the overturned alarm clock, then shut the door.

When they reached the front door, Carrie turned to him and winked. "Thanks for last night, babe."

He smiled. "My pleasure."

A little while later, after she was gone, a certain two people he knew very well broke into his house and robbed his refrigerator, which was, as usual, stocked with ripe red tomatoes.

"Mon dieu, look at all these lovely ingredients!" Francis exclaimed. "I just might be able to whip up something delicious."

Gilbert, having already found what he wanted for breakfast, had headed upstairs to Antonio's bedroom. Antonio could hear him laughing all the way from the study. "Ah-hah!" the German said. "So _that's_ why you disappeared off the face of the earth last night. How was she?"

"Alright," Antonio called back. "Very sexy, though."

"But not your type?" Francis asked from the kitchen. The rich scents of mozzarella cheese, tomatoes and French bread drifted into the study.

"No," Antonio admitted. He heard a thump upstairs and made a mental note to tell Gilbert to clean up everything by himself later.

Antonio was downloading some new songs onto his computer when a pop-up ad came up on the screen. Usually he would ignore these and close the window, but when he clicked the little X at the top right corner, nothing happened. Multiple clicks didn't help, either, so he read the ad anyway.

_GOD IS WAITING FOR YOU. CLICK BELOW TO GET STARTED!_

He wasn't religious, but he had nothing against it, either. Antonio decided to just leave it be and attempted to open his previous window. But the pointer on the screen was moving of its own accord.

"What the..."

The pointer clicked the link on the pop-up ad and the originally sunlight-filled study was plunged into darkness, save for a dim blue light. Suddenly the entire room was ice cold, and the edges of the computer screen froze and cracked. He shivered and stood from the desk, making his way to the door. When he tried to open it, he found that the doorknob was stuck.

"Hey, Gil? Francis?" Antonio called nervously. "This is some kind of joke, right?"

There was no reply.

"Come on...open the door. Please?" He was shaking by then, with cold and a growing fear.

A thin layer of ice spread across the floor and crept up the walls. The entire room was freezing up, and soon it would reach Antonio. He pounded on the door desperately, realized that was useless, and turned around, his green eyes scanning for something of use. He noticed a message on the screen that sent chills down his back.

_HELLO, ANTONIO FERNANDEZ. ARE YOU READY TO FACE HIS SEVEN FACES? BECAUSE THE GAME HAS BEGUN. _

_A dream_, he thought. That was the only explanation. _I'm having a lucid dream. But why does it feel so real? _

He looked down at his hands, what he'd learned from online was the best way to clear your head in a dream. It didn't really help, so Antonio began to think. If this was a dream, he could probably control it. He thought about fire, the sun, everything that was the opposite of cold. He imagined the heat of summer melting through the thick layer of ice, the light of the sun overcoming the eerie blue, wrapping him in a blanket of warmth.

His hands would not stop shaking.

A different emotion, anger, coursed through him, and Antonio's fear disappeared to the corner of his mind. He was not going to die because he couldn't break out of his own study. He wasn't giving up so easily. Antonio charged at the door and rammed it with his shoulder. A jolt of pain shot down his arm and he winced, then tried a different tactic. Grabbing a sturdy chair, he held it in front of him and rammed that against the door. This time, the wooden frame crumbled like shattered glass.

There was no hallway beyond the door, only darkness. Antonio stumbled from his momentum and found himself falling into nothingness, the entrance of the study and his reality high above him, out of reach and slick with ice.

_End of Chapter Two_

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**So, the players are Kiku, Arthur, Alfred, the Vargas brothers, Lili and Antonio. Each is different from one another, which means that no, I did not randomly pick them. **

**Thank you for reading, and hopefully you enjoyed that. Please leave a comment in the box below and tell me what you think! ^^**

**Adios~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	3. Moonshadow

**Hallo again! :) Here's the third chapter for you~**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Moonshadow**

_Moonshadow_

_Owner: Kiku Honda_

_World Three_

_Type: Katana_

_Slashing damage: 5000_

Alfred woke up in a meadow. His first thought was, _So I died and wound up in heaven. _He realized how ironic that was and almost laughed, but it was so quiet he didn't dare make a sound. All he could remember after the Sky Tower lit up was lightning, an electrical shock, and immense pain. He passed out after that.

His head was pounding. Alfred sat up and, wondering why his body was so heavy, looked down at himself. He was clad in full blue armor and there was a sword gripped in his right hand.

A flaming sword.

He yelped and dropped the sword. Red flames danced across the blade's etched surface, and he was instantly reminded of his weapon in Kiku's game. In fact, the sword was identical to his virtual one.

'_Greetings, players,' _a robotic voice said. The voice seemed to be coming from every direction. _'Welcome to Seven Faces of God. I have no name, but you may simply address me as the Creator.'_

_What the hell is going on? _Alfred thought. _Is this really heaven, or some kind of sick reality TV show?_

The voice continued, _'I feel that a little explanation is needed. In this world, you will be playing as personifications. You have three weeks to destroy the Error. Goodbye, and good luck.'_

Silence returned to the meadow.

He grabbed his sword and jumped to his feet. "Who the hell are you?" he yelled at the sky, but he received no response. There was nothing he could do but find a way to escape, so he trudged into the surrounding forest.

Alfred had only walked a few steps when his armor began to glow. Seconds later, he was no longer wearing heavy attire but a brown flight jacket over a white shirt, tan pants and black boots. His sword had disappeared and instead he held a gun in each hand. He recognized them as M1911's, having always been fascinated with guns.

And then the voice came again, this time directly inside his head. _'From now on, you will be known as the United States of America, or simply America. Know your place in this war.' _

"Wait!" Alfred said, when the voice retreated again. "What am I supposed to-"

That was when it happened.

Something within him changed. He felt heavier, like he was carrying something enormous on his shoulders. For one long heartbeat, he didn't know who he was. Memories flashed through his mind, alien yet familiar at the same time. A man with blond hair, thick eyebrows and emerald eyes, smiling down at him. An enormous, empty house. A fight. Rain. An old American flag with thirteen stars, slashed apart. Rain. The man with the green eyes again, collapsed on the ground, sobbing, whispering something incomprehensible. Rain. Burning tears, cold words. Rain. Rain. Rain.

He asked in his mind, _Who am I? _

_I'm Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. _

And a voice spoke in his head. Not the robotic voice, but one of his own. _No, you're not. You never were._

_N-No! I'm Alfred, a jock and science nerd! I-I'm not..._

_Yes, you are. Your name is America. It always was and always will be. _

_I-I'm...America. _

_That's right. Know your identity. Know your place in this war. _

_My name is America. _

His blue eyes hardened, and suddenly he knew exactly where to go.

. . . .

_Arthur's longbow broke the moment he picked it up. He cursed and kicked at the pieces, wondering what he had done to deserve such bad luck. Now there was nothing he could use to fend off wild animals here in the forest. _

_He had no idea how he had gotten here. One moment that Alfred kid was babbling about his new weapon, and the next everything was gone in a flash and Arthur was transported to the middle of the forest, where immediately a wild boar charged at him, squealing with some kind of rage. He'd barely been able to defend himself, and now he didn't even have a weapon._

_As he was shouting random cuss words at the sky, something behind him rustled, but he didn't notice. Arthur glared upwards, unaware that a split second later, he would be sneaked upon and knocked out cold. _

_Just before the darkness overwhelmed him, he caught a whiff of a scent that reminded him strangely of cornflowers. _

England woke with his face buried in the grass. He rolled on his back and stared up at the gray sky, which was stained with vast billows of smoke. What a peculiar dream.

The grass was dry and prickly. The air was thick with smoke and heat, and everything was silent. Even the fairies had gone away.

_Nuclear war, _England thought sadly. _There is no such thing as a successful war. _

Even now, he did not know what he was fighting for. Time was meaningless; every day began with fire and icy determination, and everyday ended with smoke and regret. _I could have stopped the war, _he would think, after the moon had risen and the bleeding land was quiet once more. _I could have ended this folly. Why didn't I?_

His rifle was laying in the grass next to him. He got to his feet and picked it up, examining it. Aside from a few scratches, the weapon was fine. England brushed himself off and headed into the forest, if it counted as one. What once had been a lush woods had been reduced to a few bare trees, their branches gnarled and black as soot.

He had to find someone, he knew. Someone. But who?

After a while, he saw a figure standing at the edge of the forest. He approached the person, wondering if this was who he was looking for.

The person turned and something stirred within England.

"_Kiku," Arthur said. "What the bloody hell is going on?" _

He blinked. Where had that come from? It was almost like...almost as if...

"What do you mean? This is war." Japan's dark eyes bored into him. "We need to go, England."

"Right. Of course."

As they left the forest, England checked his rifle again. He ran his thumb along the smooth, cool surface of the gunstock, found an uneven section and inspected it. Carved into the dark wood was: _Sicarius Light, Level 1. _It was a strange thing to carve into a gun, as if his weapon was an RPG item and everything was simply a game.

A deadly game.

"_Kiku, stop," Arthur said. "Don't you think this is all a little strange?"_

_Kiku glanced back and gave him a puzzled look. "Is something wrong, England?"_

That sudden moment of clearness faded, and England was staring at Japan once more. _No_, he thought. _I must think. What was that? Where did it come from? Think, you idiot!_

"Give...give me a moment." England turned away from the Asian nation and stared at the engravement on the rifle, rubbing it with his thumb. He tried to remember how the war started and found nothing. His mind was blank.

A game. All a game.

"Japan," England said quietly. "Do you remember when exactly this war started?"

Japan thought for a moment. "I am not sure. A while ago, I believe."

"But when? What year? Why?"

"It was because..." Japan furrowed his brows. "I...I cannot remember it at the moment."

"_It's not because you don't remember," Arthur said. "It's because you don't _know_." _

_Kiku regarded him with his opaque eyes, expressionless, but Arthur could see something awakening in those pools of black. For a moment the Japanese boy's eyes seemed to be made of glass._

_And then that glass shattered. Kiku inhaled sharply and covered his face with trembling hands. A moment later, he removed them, and the spell was broken._

Neither spoke.

"Arthur," Kiku said, breaking the silence, in a voice so unlike him Arthur almost took a step back, "something is very, very wrong."

_End of Chapter Three_

* * *

**Thank you for reading. ^ ^ Leave a review to tell me what you think! **

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	4. Sicarius Light

**I JUST GOT BRAIN DAMAGE. SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST WATCH? O.O **

**Did you guys see Episode 11? I mean, I get that all the dudes are shirtless and hot and all that, but STILL. RUSSIA WAS IN A FREAKING DRESS. I CAN NEVER LOOK AT HIM THE SAME WAY AGAIN. And America's bear costume! O.O SO...UN-AMERICAN. **

**(Thanks for the love, by the way. I really appreciate all those favs/follows/reviews.) **

**I'm going to go freak out now while you guys enjoy this mini chapter. **

* * *

**Chapter 4: Sicarius Light**

_Sicarius Light _

_Owner: Arthur Kirkland _

_World Unknown_

_Type: Semi-automatic rifle _

_Firing damage: Unknown_

Lovino Vargas was afraid.

He had closed his eyes and ended up in a wasteland of destroyed cities, skeletal trees and in overall a place that looked like it had just been through an apocalypse. Broken cars were scattered along a cracked road. And down the street, in what once had been a neighborhood, houses were either reduced to a pile of rubble or simply gone. Out of the neighborhood, an enormous mound of concrete chunks and metal pipes sat lonelily amidst a field of dead yellow grass. A wall loomed over the wreck, indicating that it used to be a large dwelling, perhaps even a mansion.

He was pretty sure that mansion looked like theirs.

As he stumbled through the post-apocalyptic world, Lovi suddenly realized that his brother was not with him. Maybe Feli had gotten the better end of the deal; instead of a destroyed place, he was probably enjoying himself in some perfect world, surrounded with good pasta and hot chicks. Lovi had always been the unlucky one in the family, anyway.

He approached a slab of concrete and sat. His hands shook and he shivered, half with cold and half with fear. Lovi stared at the ground, wishing he wasn't alone, and for once, wishing his brother was here to cheer him up with that stupid smile of his.

"It's strange, huh," came a voice from nowhere.

Lovi jumped and barely stopped a scream. A second person was sitting on the concrete next to him. He had dripping wet, messy brown hair and green eyes, and looked to be around seventeen years old. Perhaps Lovi and the stranger seemed nothing alike, but there were similarities. Like the fact that they were both dirty and covered in scrapes, Lovi from waking up to find the ceiling of small shack collapsing on him. It had been a low ceiling, but it had brought along plenty of ash and dust along with it.

And the fact that they both looked afraid and gloomy. And that they were in the same place. And that, Lovi knew somehow, the stranger was not from this world.

"W-Who are you?" Lovi gasped, because he was quite surprised to find he wasn't alone.

"I'm Antonio," he answered. Lovi could detect a trace of an accent in his voice. Spanish, maybe? "It's a pleasure to meet you here at the end of the world."

Despite the situation, Antonio smiled, and Lovi was instantly reminded of Feli. That just made him miss his brother even more.

"Lovino," Lovi said, and scowled. "Thanks for scaring me."

Instead of getting annoyed like most people would, Antonio laughed. "Sorry about that. I was just really happy to find someone else other than me."

"Me, too," Lovi muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." Lovi frowned. "What the hell is going on? Is this even Earth?"

Antonio sighed. "I don't know. My study suddenly froze up and then I ended up here."

Lovi studied him. Was that ice in his hair? "My bro and I were playing an MMORPG when something happened to our house. Some kind of portal appeared, and that's my story."

"Where's your brother?"

That was a sore spot. "None of your business, bastard."

Again, instead of becoming angry, Antonio chuckled. "You've got quite the sharp tongue there. I suppose it really isn't my business."

Lovi just didn't get this guy.

A loud crash sounded nearby and they both started. A huge dust cloud floated over and Lovi coughed. As he strained to see through the dust, a figure emerged. He recognized the outline.

"Feliciano!" Lovi stood and glared at his brother. "Where the hell did you go? And why are you dressed like a freaking soldier?"

Feli stared at him blankly. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I'm Italy Veneziano, and the reason why I'm dressed like this is because we're in the middle of nuclear war."

. . . .

It was a little scary to think that she had died and this was the hell waiting for her. Lili had never been a particularly bad person. She had lied before and she did cheat on a test in fifth grade, but she'd never done anything so horrible she deserved an afterlife of misery, she was pretty sure of that. But then why had she ended up in a place like this?

Lili trudged through the ruins of a small town, wondering if this was not the afterlife, but the future. She wasn't sure if it was her just imagination, but her surroundings were beginning to look more and more like Bern in Switzerland, her hometown and where she lived. That made chills run down her spine.

And that voice she had heard...it had been so robotic and emotionless, so eerie, that she had tried to block it out by covering her ears, but it was no use. It had penetrated so deep into her mind it was impossible to escape from. The Creator, it called itself. What a simple yet powerful name.

"You must be Lili Zwingli," a voice said. She whirled around, heart pounding.

Standing just a few feet away from her was Vash.

Or, he looked like Vash. But Lili knew her brother too well to be fooled. This stranger's hair was a shade too light, the green of his eyes was a little off, the angle of his jaw was too sharp, and he was dressed in strange attire-something that resembled the Swiss army uniform. A deadly-looking rifle was slung across his shoulders. Something told her that if he were to use that gun, he would not miss.

"Yes," Lili replied, voice shaking. "And you are...?"

"Switzerland," he said, and saluted her. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lili. Please come with me."

_End of Chapter 4_

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**Sorry for that rant earlier. I just...I don't know. I mean, I just saw my favorite character three-fourths naked. . **

**Well. At least they didn't make Japan dress up. And at least they animated Taiwan. **

**Thanks for reading. Leave a review to tell me what you think! **

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	5. Twins of Celerity

**...Damn. Programming is hard. **

**Halfway through the first chapter, though. I'm not announcing the release date because I don't want to disappoint you guys if we're late.**

**Well, here's the fifth chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Twins of Celerity _

_Owner: Alfred F. Jones_

_World Unknown_

_Type: Dual wield M1911's_

_Firing damage: Unknown _

Kiku's head was pounding. Even though he had gained back his real identity, the false memories were still floating around, making it hard for him to distinguish between illusions and reality. Arthur was doing no better; more than once he had called Kiku "Japan" or referred to himself as "England."

"Find help," Arthur had suggested, and here they were, traveling in the midst of the ruins of a great city. Kiku felt like the place was changing, gradually, but changing, to become more and more similar to Tokyo.

"This place reminds me of somewhere," Arthur muttered. "England, maybe..."

Kiku glanced sideways at his friend. "That's very strange. I could swear that we are in Japan."

"Do you think we're in the future?" Arthur asked. "This could be what Earth will turn into after World War Three."

"It's possible," Kiku said. "We might be the first to travel through time." Neither mentioned why they had thought of themselves as personified countries.

There was something in Kiku's pocket. He slipped in his hand inside his left pocket and produced a small pamphlet about the size of his hand. It was the guide he had made for his favorite RPG creation, Seven Faces of God. Kiku stared at the four printed words, a bad feeling settling in his stomach.

With shaking fingers, Kiku flipped open the book.

He did not recognize anything.

_Every game has rules. Here are the rules to mine:_

_1. If you kill yourself in an attempt to escape, you will be eliminated._

_2. Do try to stay alive. It is no fun when the game is over, and none when your life is as well._

_3. If you destroy the wrong Error, you will be eliminated. _

_4. Otherwise, have fun!_

_Every game has an objective. There are seven worlds in this game. If you can make it past the seventh world and enter Heaven, you will find me. _

_Good luck, players. I hope you enjoy your stay._

_-The Creator_

Kiku closed the pamphlet and swallowed hard. "Arthur, I...I don't think we are in the future."

"Why not?" the British teen asked, curious to hear Kiku's reason.

Kiku looked up at the dreary gray sky. "Because someone is up there, watching our every move." His eyes moved down at the cracked road. "I never thought this possible," he said, "but we are almost certainly in a game."

Arthur's eyes widened. "Do you mean..."

"Yes," Kiku said. "Did you hear what the voice said? _'Welcome to Seven Faces of God.'_"

Arthur didn't reply. He stayed silent for so long Kiku thought his friend was angry. Then he said, "If this is a game, we can escape by dying, right?"

_If you kill yourself in an attempt to escape, you will be eliminated._

"Elimination," Kiku said. "What does that mean?"

"The act or process of getting rid of, or removing from consideration by defeating, as in a contest," Arthur replied. "Why?"

_You will be eliminated. _

"If we die in this game," Kiku said, unable to stop his voice from trembling, "we...we may not live again in reality."

"That's preposterous." Arthur's voice was full of disbelief. "Where did you get such an idea, Kiku?"

Kiku opened the guide to show Arthur its contents, but to his shock, there was nothing inside.

Blank. Every page was blank.

"Please," he said. "Just believe me."

Arthur studied his friend with green eyes filled with suspicion and confusement. Then he sighed. "Alright. I trust you, Kiku. You wouldn't say such things without reason."

Somewhere nearby, a song began to play.

_Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness _

"Music might mean people," Arthur said. "Where do you think its source is?"

"I think it is coming from the building near the blue car." The car had been crushed, but Arthur knew where Kiku was referring to. The two teens approached the building and went inside.

_I would have stayed up with you all night_

The building had probably been a hotel. On half a table, a faded sign read, _Reception_. A larger sign hung on the wall behind the table. It had holes in various places, but Kiku could make out, _Ro ms a d Me l S rv ce. _The floor was hidden beneath a layer of crushed concrete and piles of rubble.

Kiku had a bad feeling about this place. _It is just my nerves. _He knelt and began digging through the rubble, and Arthur did the same.

_Had I known how to save a life_

It didn't take much time to find the source. The music was coming from a slightly scratched up radio. Kiku dusted it off and studied it. There was something strange about the radio.

"I guess we ran out of luck," Arthur said glumly, sitting back on his heels.

Kiku didn't reply. He was staring at the radio. It had a tiny screen with numbers he had assumed told the time. But what time was 12:86?

_How to save a life..._

He stared at the numbers so hard tears came to his eyes.

"...Kiku? Is something wrong?" Arthur touched his shoulder lightly.

_How to save a life..._

It hit him so suddenly he almost lost his balance. Kiku dropped the radio and jumped up, eyes filled with unusual panic. "Run, Arthur! Run!"

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked, confused.

"It's a bomb!" Kiku grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet. "_RUN!"_

The world exploded.

. . . .

Arthur was dreaming. He wandered down a long corridor, approaching someone standing at the end. At a closer look, the person was a boy of no more than seven. He had blond hair a shade darker than Arthur's and bright blue eyes full of a child's innocence.

The boy tugged on his sleeve. "Come pway with me, Engwand."

He gazed sternly at the boy. "America, it's past your bedtime. You shouldn't be wandering around."

The child, America, pouted and looked up at Arthur with impossibly big, puppy-dog eyes. "Pwease?"

It was no use resisting those eyes. Arthur sighed. "Alright. But only for a little while."

A smile spread across America's face, but suddenly he wasn't a child anymore, and Arthur wasn't in the corridor, but kneeling in the rain with tears streaming down his face.

"Dammit, why?" Arthur heard himself whisper. "Why are you doing this?"

"You know why," came the answer, only it wasn't a child's voice, but an adult's. The words were spoken coldly, with a hint of melancholy that broke Arthur's heart.

"Fine," Arthur spat, the only way he could hide his true feelings. "Leave. Leave and don't let me see your face again, _America_."

Without a word, the personification of America turned on his back and walked away.

Someone was calling his name. No, not his name. "England."

"England, please, wake up. Dammit, I know you're not dead."

Arthur opened his eyes. Someone was staring down at him with wide blue eyes. _America. No...what was his name? That's right, Alfred. _

Alfred breathed a long sigh of relief. "You scared me there, man. I thought you...I thought you were..."

Arthur sat up. "W-What happened? There was music and...and a bomb...where's Kiku?"

Alfred gave him a blank look. "Who's Kiku?"

"The creator of the RPG game you played earlier, you dolt." Arthur tried to get up, but a sharp pain in his chest prevented him from doing so. "Ack...bloody hell, what happened?"

"I set the bomb," Alfred said, "but it wasn't for you..."

"YOU WHAT?"

"I set the bomb, but I didn't expect you to come across it," Alfred repeated. He looked shakened. "It was for Japan. I knew he'd come looking for me."

"You were going to kill him," Arthur said coldly.

"Well, not _really_. I just...I don't know..." His face changed into that of an extremely puzzled expression.

"What in the world were you thinking, doing something like that?" Arthur demanded, grabbing Alfred's shirt collar. "This isn't a game, you idiot!" _But it is. A game of life and death._

The puzzled look went away and suddenly Alfred wasn't a dumb teenager anymore, but the person Arthur had seen in his dream. The person he had never wanted to see again.

"This is war, England," America said, not a trace of humor in his voice. "You don't play games in war." He pushed Arthur away and stood, facing the other direction. "You should know that better than anyone."

Those words sent chills down England's back. He knew he had been in many, many battles...

No. _No. _He was Arthur Kirkland, no one else. The only wars he had been in were ones in virtual reality. He couldn't let those memories consume him again, or he would forget he was.

He stared up at Alfred, this stranger that he knew so well. "America," Arthur said quietly. "Who are you?"

America flinched at the question. "What do you mean? I am who I am. The personification of the United States of America."

"No, really." Arthur put more steel into his voice. "_Who are you_?"

"I...I..." Something flickered across America's face, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to will the images from his dream away. "I know you're in there somewhere, Alfred."

A long silence ensued, and it was so quiet Arthur could hear bombs going off in the distance: _boom, boom, boom. _

And then America spoke again, but he spoke as Alfred, as himself. "W-What's going on? What _happened _to me?"

"We're in a game," Arthur said, a part of him glad Alfred was back to normal. He couldn't stand reliving those memories again. "A dangerous one, so we have to be very careful." He explained everything Kiku had told him to Alfred.

"No." Alfred shook his head. "No way. I get how your idea makes sense, but that's...that's just crazy."

"The voice," Arthur said. "Didn't you hear the voice?"

Alfred paled and was quiet. After a moment he said, "Alright. I believe you."

Arthur blinked. "You do?" He had expected the guy to call him a lunatic.

"Yeah. You don't seem the type to tell a lie like that." Alfred kicked at a piece of rubble. "Besides, that voice..." He shuddered. "I've never heard anything like it."

The pain in his chest had reduced to a dull throb. Arthur got to his feet and dusted himself off, wondering what the hell he had done to end up in a situation like this. But it was no matter. They were going to escape, no matter what it took.

"Let's go find Kiku," Arthur said, because somehow he knew his Japanese friend was still alive. "And then let's leave this place, as soon as possible."

Alfred nodded, and the two teens began their search for the third player, without a clue of what was ahead of them. Both were tired but determined, ready to accept any obstacle, any challenge.

The game had begun.

_End of Chapter Five _

**part I: end**

* * *

******That's the end of part one. And the end of my frequent updates...**

******...just kidding. =w= I'll continue to update.**

**The song is How to Save a Life by The Fray. The song is awesome and the band is awesome. **

**This chapter name is so stupid. I ran out of ideas. ;_;**

**Thank you for reading! Review and tell me your thoughts. Also, do you think I should continue or wait for the first chapter of the RPG to come out first? That way I won't spoil it for you guys.**

**Peace~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	6. Fatality's Song

**I've been so busy lately with school... ;_; But here I am again. **

**Hi, guys. Here's the sixth chapter. Thanks for the feedback, by the way! **

**So, this chapter doesn't have much to do with developing the plot. It's one of those chapters where I sort of get carried away...**

**Enjoy~**

* * *

**part II: the worlds**

* * *

**WORLD I**

_"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones." _

—_Albert Einstein_

* * *

**Chapter 6: Fatality's Song**

_Fatality's Song_

_Owner: Switzerland _

_World One_

_Type: AK47_

_Firing Damage: Unavailable_

"Where are we going?" Lili asked Switzerland.

"You'll see," was all he said. She didn't ask him anymore questions, so they walked in silence.

Switzerland was so similar to her brother it was scary. The way he talked and walked, how he held himself, reminded Lili so much of Vash. He had an intimidating air about him, but somehow she wasn't afraid of him. Maybe it was only because he resembled her brother.

After a while, they stopped. "We're here," Switzerland said in that clipped voice of his.

Lili looked around. They were definitely in Bern, she thought, the Bern of another more horrible time, perhaps, but nonetheless the same place. She followed Switzerland into a small but exquisite wooden cottage. The place was strangely familiar.

"Have I been here before?" Lili asked, although she knew it was a stupid question. Why would he know?

"No, you haven't," Switzerland replied quickly. For a second he seemed shakened- then he was back to normal again. He took off his coat and put away his rifle, then said, "Sit down while I go make us some tea."

Lili sat on the sofa and looked around. The inside was just as beautiful as the exterior. There was a real fireplace hooded by a smooth marble mantel. The furniture was mostly made of wood, and a vase of fresh flowers sat on the window sills. In the corner, the flag of Switzerland hung from a pole. She decided it was a little old-fashioned, but very Swiss.

Switzerland came back with two mugs of hot steaming tea. He sat down across from Lili and set a mug in front of her. "Thank you," she said, and he nodded.

She hadn't realized how cold she was until she had a sip of the tea. Warmth spread through her like an embrace.

The tea wasn't very good, Lili thought, then mentally chided herself for thinking that way. He'd been kind enough to invite her in and give her something warm to drink, and now she was complaining about his tea?

Still, she had to teach him the proper way to make tea sometime. Lili wasn't an expert on making the drink, but she had some skills.

Switzerland didn't say anything or look at her, just drank his own beverage. The silence was becoming uncomfortable.

Lili shifted in her seat and asked, "Why did you want me to come here?"

He said something she was not expecting. "I'm going to train you to become a soldier."

She almost choked on her tea. "What?"

"It's necessary if you want to survive." Switzerland finished the last of his tea and stood. "Come with me. I'll show you the gunroom."

Lili vaguely remembered that Switzerland was one of the world's largest arms exporters.

Out of the living room, down the hallway, beyond the last door on the right, was the gunroom. Lili was surprised to find that it was very modern. The walls were devoid of any decoration. Instead, rows of different types of guns hanging on them made up for adornment. More guns laid on metal tables. Tools were lined up neatly in one corner of the room, and a monitor analyzed the country's arms export rate.

"Wow," Lili managed. "You have a very nice collection, Switzerland."

"This is necessary to keep the economy stable and boost my country's military strength," he said seriously. Again, she was struck by how much he was like Vash. He fixed his green eyes on her. "I assume you have a weapon?"

Lili hadn't even noticed, but a small handgun was strapped to her waist. She removed it and showed it to Switzerland. "I-I guess I do."

"Good." He took the gun from her and examined it. "It's a fine model, but it's better if you use a rifle..." He frowned. "A rifle might be too heavy for you. This will have to do."

Muttering something under his breath, Switzerland took a few weapons off the walls and packed a few boxes of ammunition in a pouch. Lili watched everything nervously, wondering what was so dangerous out there she had to learn how to use a gun.

"The shooting range is outside," Switzerland said, so they exited the house. When they arrived at the firearms practice area, he set up a few targets and laid the guns and ammo on a table. Lili approached him and he placed her gun in her hand, then chose one for himself.

"Using a firearm is very dangerous," Switzerland said. "Always treat a gun as if it were loaded, no exceptions. This is to prevent any accidents from happening."

Lili nodded and he held up his gun. "Grip your gun with two hands," he instructed. "Your dominant hand should be higher."

She did as he said. "Press your thumbs against one side of the gun barrel," Switzerland continued. "With the index finger of your dominant hand against the other side of the gun barrel, wrap the other three fingers below the trigger, and cover them with the fingers of your support hand." He demonstrated for her and watched until she held it properly. Then he set down his gun and adjusted her posture. "Feet apart. Bend your knees a little. Keep your back straight."

After he was satisfied, Switzerland stepped back and asked her to fire a few shots. Lili tried her best. Most of her shots zinged into the woods, but one grazed the edge of the target board. When she ran out of ammo, he approached and helped her refill the gun, teaching her while doing so.

As he was reloading the firearm, Lili asked, "Why are you helping me?"

He stiffened at the question. Slowly, he set the gun down and just stared at the table. She thought he was angry until he finally spoke. "Do you know who I am?"

Lili blinked. Where had that question come from? "Yes, you're Switzerland. You were named after the country..."

"I wasn't just named after it," he said bitterly. "I am the country itself, personified. And worse, I'm not even real."

"Of course you're real," Lili said, a little startled. "You're standing in front of me, aren't you?"

"You don't understand, Lili. This place, this world...everything is a game. An impossibly realistic RPG."

A horrible chill went through her, and suddenly she found it hard to breathe. "Do you ...do you mean..."

"You're trapped in a game, Lili. Everyone around you is playing as a country."

Her mouth was dry. "Then does that mean that I'm a country, too? That I'm not...real?"

"You're very real," Switzerland assured her. "You're not from this world, but I am. The reason why you're not a nation is because I won't allow it. I won't allow you to become something like me."

Lili stared at the ground, her hands trembling so badly she almost dropped the gun. "Why are you doing this for me?" she whispered.

"Because you look so much like her," he answered, his voice full of incredible rage and incredible sadness. "My younger sister, Liechtenstein, whom I will never see again."

She didn't reply. Her mother was from Liechtenstein, but that was all she knew about the place. "I'm so sorry," Lili said finally. "What happened to her?"

"She was taken away by the Creator, the god of this world." Switzerland looked up at the sky. "This area is the only place he can't sense. I built up a camouflage system to block him out."

He took a few steps forward, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eyes. "You have to be strong, Lili. I can't protect you from him. You have to fight for yourself. Don't ever forget who you are."

Lili didn't know what drove her, but suddenly she threw herself into his arms and began to cry. Hesitantly, Switzerland wrapped his arms around her, silent. And all she could think about at that moment was how he smelled a little, just a little, like home.

* * *

**I know, right. Switzy's so OOC. :P So, as I was writing this, my feelings for this fluffy sibling relationship kind of slapped me across the face. So feelings+my stupidity= this chapter of no importance.**

**I have the next chapter planned out, though. It'll focus on how Toni and Lovi are doing and introduce the "goal," or whatever it's called. **

**Thanks for reading, and please review! See you in the next chapter~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	7. Angel's Oath

**Hi, guys! I'm back again with the seventh chapter. **

**...I seriously don't know what I'd do without you guys. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Angel's Oath**

_Angel's Oath _

_Owner: Lili Zwingli_

_World One _

_Type: Glock 19 _

"Where are you taking us, bro?" Lovino asked again. He'd been demanding the same question repeatedly, each time more insistent than the previous.

"You'll see, Romano," Italy replied, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Just tell me already," Lovino said exasperately. "And the for the umpteenth time, my name is _Lovino_, not Romario or whatever the fuck you called me."

Italy cringed as if Lovino had threatened him. Antonio watched the two brothers toss words back and forth curiously. They were complete opposites, he decided, yet the brothers looked like twins, which made it all the more peculiar. Lovino and Italy, or Feliciano, what Lovino had said was his brother's real name, were mirror images, but as similar as black and white.

"We're almost there," Italy almost pleaded. "Please." Antonio didn't understand why the kid was being so timid.

Lovino scowled, but stayed silent. They followed Italy into a small shack. Lovino cursed when he saw it. Antonio thought he muttered something like, "Try it again and I'll fucking murder you."

When they entered, Antonio realized that Italy had not followed them in. He turned and found Italy standing in the doorway, covering his face with his hands. "I'm sorry," Italy whimpered. "Germany said it had to be done, I'm _sorry_..."

Something heavy struck Antonio in the back of his head and he dropped to the ground, out cold.

. . . .

The ice was chasing him again, silent and merciless. He ran from it, but it spread across the ground and froze his feet so he could not move. As the cold devil embraced his legs, he shivered violently and the hope drained out of him.

_No. No, this isn't right. _

As it reached his waist, he began to struggle, pounding at the ice until it cracked. His fingers were numb, frozen, but determination filled him with fire.

The ice shattered. Spain opened his eyes.

He was in a control room, lying on a metal bed. Screens spread across the walls, displaying statistics and maps and what looked like military plans. Metal tables were pushed against the wall, one of them hosting a collection of deadly looking weapons.

"Oh look, he's awake," a voice exclaimed. Italy was standing at the far side of the room with a tall man. The man was blond and quite young, looking to be only a few years older than Spain. Yet he there was something so stern and serious about him he seemed ten years older. Spain knew him as Germany.

"That's good news," Germany said in a deep voice. He fixed pale blue eyes on Spain. "How are you feeling?"

"My head hurts a little," Spain said, "but otherwise I'm fine."

Germany nodded. "Alright. I'll let you in on the current status of the war..."

Someone groaned loudly next to Spain. "Ugh, what happened?" Romano sat up and rubbed his head, then shot Italy a death glare. "Bro, did you hit me with a brick?"

Italy smiled, half apologetically, half relievedly. "Not exactly, but I'm really sorry. Does it hurt?"

"Of course it hurts, you idiot." Romano cursed under his breath, winced, and focused his gaze on Spain.

There was something in those hazel eyes, something that screamed a warning. A message. And suddenly, without a doubt, Spain knew. He stared back and gave a slight, barely noticable shake of his head.

"But..." Romano began, but Spain grabbed his hand and squeezed it firmly. Romano closed his mouth relucantly.

Germany had watched their secret exchange without expression, but Spain could see suspicion swimming in his blue eyes.

"I see you've come to," the German nation said tonelessly.

"No shit," Romano snorted contemptuously, and added "Potato bastard," under his breath.

Germany cleared his throat. "Let us continue. Currently, eleven nuclear bombs are aimed at my country, ready to set off any second. The bombs belong to Russia, China, and a few countries in the Middle East, Including Iran and Afghanistan. Nine bombs are aimed toward Italy."

Italy shifted his feet nervously.

"The offenders are China, Yugoslavia and...Japan."

At the mention of Japan's name, Italy looked as if he were about to break down crying.

"Six bombs are aimed toward Spain," Germany said, "from Russia, Israel and Argentina."

Spain did not know what to say to this piece of information. He was scared, he admitted, yet curiously calm. "What do we do now?"

"We have to find the bombs," Germany replied, "and destroy each of them. If we let even one of these weapons touch our country, it will wipe out the people."

That thought was disturbing. Spain shivered, remembering the terrible bombings in Japan.

"Spain, you will destroy the bombs in Israel, Argentina and Japan," Germany said. "Italy and Romano, you will deal with the bombs in the Middle East and Yugoslavia." Germany looked towards a screen that showed his country, his expression grim. "And I will destroy the weapons in Russia and China with America, if I can find him."

Now was the time. Spain could see Romano growing impatient. "Germany, Italy," Spain said. "I have to talk to Romano about something. Could you excuse us for a few minutes?"

Suspicion was clear on Germany's face, but he nodded. "Italy, let's leave them alone."

Italy glanced at Romano, then followed Germany out the room.

Once they were gone, Romano exploded. "What the fuck the going on? What's up with all the bombs and wars? Why is my brother following that bastard around like he worships him?"

"Calm down," Spain said, although he didn't feel particularly calm himself. "It's going to be fine. We need to figure out what's going on first and end this war."

Romano stared at Spain disbelievingly. "Don't tell me...don't tell me you haven't..."

"I'm Antonio, Lovi," Spain assured him. "One hundred percent myself."

"Don't call me Lovi," Lovi grumbled. "And seriously, how are we supposed to get out of here?"

"I don't know," Antonio replied honestly. "But we'll figure out. Right now we need to find out what's going on."

The two fell into a silence, thinking. After a while, some memories came to mind: a child Romano wetting his bed, Romano desperately trying to defend his boss, Romano crying because he thought Spain was sending him to Austria. And although he knew those memories were false, Antonio smiled anyway.

. . . .

The first bomb that exploded shook the room. The second caused the ceiling the crack and the swivel chairs to spin wildly. Antonio was on his feet immediately. "Lovi, we have to leave _now_."

Lovi stared at him with wide green eyes full of fear. Antonio grabbed his arm and began dragging him out of the room. Outside in the hallway, Germany and Italy were running towards them, rifles in their arms.

"Let's go," Germany said, and Spain nodded.

They ran down the hallway and burst out of the nearest exit just before the building exploded. In the not-too-far distance, bombs went off one by one, only a couple of seconds apart from each other.

"Are we...in my country?" Spain asked worriedly.

"No, this is America," Germany answered. Spain's memories told him this was true, but his eyes showed him a different story.

"It's hard to slip away," Germany explained. "If you think about your country, you'll see yourself there. Keep your mind focused and you will be where you really are."

Spain stopped thinking and waited. Sure enough, the scenes around him began to shift and morph. The architecture style changed and the Spanish flags were replaced by stars and stripes.

"Germany, I'm scared," Italy whimpered. At this, Romano scowled deeply and glared at the German nation.

"It's going to be fine, Italy," Germany said, although his eyes told the opposite. "Right now we have to find America before it's too late."

When a bomb blew up only a couple hundred meters away, the nations ran into an only partially collapsed structure to take cover. From inside, they watched dust and ash and brick shower down to the earth.

Germany shut the door and sighed shakily. "That was too close."

Spain nodded wordlessly. A nation's soul is divided in two parts, one part their country, one part their physical being. Although they weren't in their respective nations, it was still possible to get severely injured.

"What do we do now?" Italy asked quietly, shakened himself.

"Once we are sure it is safe outside, we'll look for America," Germany said. The fear in his blue eyes was masked by weariness, but it was there.

"You always know what to do, Germany," Italy said admirably, smiling.

Romano, who had been slumped in a dusty sofa, suddenly jumped to his feet, anger written on his face.

Spain knew what was coming. "Romano, please..."

"Of course he knows everything," Romano said, almost calmly, like the calm before a storm. "He knows so much that you follow him around like some kind of fucking lapdog. So much that you forget about that one person in the dark, who's always been overshadowed by his own little brother and can't even keep him safe. So much that that person becomes less than a bastard you've met for less than a fucking day. Because that person's worth less than shit, isn't he? _Isn't he_?"

Italy stared at Romano in shock. "I...I didn't mean..."

"Whose brother are you?" Romano asked quietly. "Mine, or that potato bastard's?"

Italy hesitated.

Without a word, Romano left the room.

. . . .

Antonio found him sitting outside, kicking angrily at some pebbles. He sat next to Lovi and watched him for awhile.

"It's going to be okay, Lovi," Antonio reassured him, after a while. "We'll escape and get your brother back to normal, I promise you."

"Don't call me that!" Lovi snapped, and quickly turned away, his back facing Antonio.

"Lovi?" Antonio asked gently, when the boy remained silent. He touched the other's shoulder lightly. "Are you okay?"

"Shut up!" Lovi whirled around, and to Antonio's shock, his eyes were filled with tears. "I'm not okay, and neither are you, don't deny it! What if my brother never comes back? What if we never escape? Face reality, Antonio!"

Lovi turned away again, shoulders shaking. Antonio couldn't think of a reply. Spain would give him a hug, muss up his hair and tell him everything would be fine, but Antonio was a stranger. So they sat there quietly, not speaking, but silently sharing fears and sadness, wondering if there was even the tiniest bit of hope at all.

_End of Chapter Seven_

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**And that's the end of this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it. :D**

**Also, I just want to say that the first update of the RPG will be the slowest, because we have to finish the character avatars and sprites, the title page, and how to use the program. Oh, and the music. I've pretty much figured out everything about the program, though. **

**Please leave a comment to tell me what you think! Thank you for reading, and see you next time!**

**Ciao~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	8. Eternal Lullaby

**...Hi, guys. I'm in the middle of exams, so I'm a bit moody from all the studying... **

**But I finished another chapter, so here you go...**

**Wait. Good news. I completed the first chapter of the RPG! Now we're just waiting for Geirdriful to finish the art. And expect Game of Thrones music. I just happen to be a huge fan of GoT. IT'S AWESOME.**

**Enjoy. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Eternal Lullaby**

_Eternal Lullaby_

_Owner: Kiku Honda_

_World 1_

_Type: Type 44 Carbine bolt-action rifle_

They found Kiku lying on his side, perfectly still, his eyes closed. His breathing was shallow and he was covered in a thin layer of sweat, but he was alive.

"Kiku," Arthur called gently. "Kiku, wake up. I'm here with Alfred. Do you remember Alfred?"

The Japanese boy's eyes fluttered open and he gazed up at the other two, blinking. "That...was for me, wasn't it?" he asked weakly.

"I'm really sorry, man," Alfred said sincerely. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Well, I set the bomb, but it wasn't _me _exactly...ah, never mind. Um...are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Kiku sat up and took a deep breath. "You definitely are not the first to do so. This is war, and these things happen."

To prove this, a muffled _boom _sounded somewhere far away.

"Do you need me to..." Arthur began, as Kiku began to get to his feet.

"No, I can walk just fine." Kiku stood and dusted himself off. "We need to find other people that may have been trapped here like us, and then perhaps destroy this 'Error,' if that will allow us to escape."

Alfred was impressed at how calm the Japanese high schooler was. He had just been attacked, yet he seemed so calm and focused.

Arthur nodded. It was clear that he trusted his friend deeply. "Let's get moving."

. . . .

"Hey, guys?" Alfred said in a strange tone. "Can you go ahead? I think I..."

He didn't finish his sentence. Alfred coughed and the very next instant, his lips were red with blood.

"Alfred!" Arthur grabbed the teen before he could collapse. "What happened? Were you attacked?"

Alfred didn't answer. His coughs were dry at first, but then he began to wheeze and choke, making horrible, thin whistling sounds from his throat. A small, bright red spot dotted his shirt and began to spread slowly to become a dark stain.

"Kiku, what should we do? He's bleeding heavily!" Arthur turned to Kiku desperately.

"Check his injuries," Kiku instructed. Arthur obeyed, laid Alfred in the grass, and pulled his shirt up.

A deep gash around eight inches long stretched from his chest to his abdomen, widening slowly. Blood seeped from the wound at an alarming pace. Other smaller cuts were etched all over his sides. Alfred's blue eyes were wide with shock and his face was white as a sheet.

"We need to stop the blood," Kiku said. "Some sort of cloth would do..."

In response to this, Arthur tore a strip from the hem of his shirt and wrapped it around the wound, but the cloth was too thin and the blood seeped through almost immediately.

"It's okay," Alfred wanted to say, but he couldn't find the strength to speak. So he lay there uselessly as Arthur and Kiku panicked, a single thought replaying itself over and over in his mind, as he began to slip away.

_That last bomb, England,_ _was from you._

_. . . ._

He awoke in a white room.

The first thing he noticed was the painful, rhythmic throb in his chest that did not seem to stop. The second thing he noticed was the pile of bandages stuffed in the trashbin, splattered with blood.

The third thing he noticed was the man.

The man was tall. The man was clearly older, and had blue eyes a shade lighter than his own. The man was once an enemy, but now he was an ally. An important ally.

The man was named Germany.

"What...what..." Alfred croaked, trying to sit up, but a sharp sting in his stomach made him lie back down.

"So you've finally come to," Germany said. "God knows where you've been all this time. Did you know seventeen countries were attacked while you were gone?"

Alfred had no reply to that.

Germany sighed. "It makes no matter. You're severely injured, so just rest for the time being."

He finally found his voice. "Where are Arthur and Kiku?" he asked hoarsely, then realized his mistake.

"England, I mean," Alfred corrected himself hastily, after seeing what emerged in Germany's eyes. "And Japan."

"They are in a seperate room," the German replied. "After we found them attacking you, we took them with us for questioning."

"They weren't _attacking _me," Alfred declared hotly. "They were trying to save my life."

"And why would your enemies be saving you?" Germany asked. His blue eyes seemed to bore right through Alfred. Something about the man, something about the way he shaped the question, told Alfred this nation was very, very dangerous.

_Damn, I really need to be more careful about what comes out of my mouth. _"It seemed that way, at least. I was literally puking my guts out, so I don't remember exactly. What happened?"

"They were discussing about whether to keep you as a hostage or just kill you off," Germany answered, quite matter-of-factly.

_Wow. Harsh. _"I want to see them," Alfred said, and, this time ignoring the pain, sat up and hoisted himself off the bed.

"Of course, after your injuries are fully healed..." Germany began.

"No, I want to see them now." With this, Alfred limped out of the room, clutching his broken arm and trying not to look like a total loser.

He found them in a small metal room, handcuffed and locked behind bars. Kiku looked terrible. His face and arms were covered with cuts and bruises, but Arthur was worse. Arthur's left eye was swollen and he had even more wounds than Kiku. His lip was split and blood seeped from a cut on his cheek.

"Geez, what'd you guys do to end up like this?" Alfred wondered.

Somehow that made Arthur angry. "What do you think?" he grumbled. "The bloody bastard took a bat out on us."

Alfred blinked. "Germany?" Somehow he couldn't imagine Germany doing such a thing. The image was slightly disturbing and slightly ludicrous.

"No, not Germany," Kiku said. "It was South Korea, I believe. He said something about trying to find his twin brother North Korea..."

"The lunatic, yes," Arthur said. "Both of them are out of their minds, I tell you. It doesn't bloody matter whether they're in the north or south."

Somehow it was even harder to picture South Korea with a bat. "South Korea? Are you sure?"

"It was South Korea," a voice confirmed behind them. Arthur and Kiku silenced immediately as Alfred turned to face Germany.

"So, what did you learn?" Germany asked.

"That it was South Korea," Alfred answered stupidly, then mentally smacked himself for it.

"We don't have anything else to tell you," Arthur said, to make up for the poor answer. "Now will you please bloody let us go?"

"The bombs are already set, so keeping them here may not be as much of an advantage. What do you say, America?" Germany fixed his gaze on Alfred. "Keep them here, or let them go?"

Alfred knew he was in a trap. If he let Arthur and Kiku go, Germany would suspect he wanted to save them. They'd never leave with the country watching them every second. If he kept them, the nation would think something was up. He didn't know who Germany worked for, but it was probably the Creator guy, and the Creator guy was not cool.

"Kill them," America said, as nonchalantly as he could manage. "After all, what's the point of keeping your enemies alive?"

. . . .

He was shaking so hard he was afraid Germany would notice, but the German paid no mind.

"Are you sure about this?" Germany asked, as he unlocked the prison and led the handcuffed Arthur and Kiku out. Their faces were white and their eyes round as saucers as they stared at America in horror and fear. America turned away.

"Just do it." He assessed his memories. "Take them to the blue room." The blue room was where all executions were performed, his memories as America told him. He moved towards Arthur, smirked, and whispered something in his ear.

"_I win."_

Arthur stared back, England's fury showing through his eyes.

Germany brought the prisoners out the door and paused. "You do know that they will only be weakened unless their country is harmed as well."

"Of course," America said. "But there are more than ten bombs aimed at each of them, so it doesn't matter."

Germany hesitated, then led them into the hallway. "Alright. Killing them physically will weaken them, and this may prevent any further trouble from their nations."

America waited until the three countries were all facing the other direction and brought out one of his guns.

He couldn't fire it. Of course he couldn't. The possibility that it might hit Arthur or Kiku was too high, and he basically had zero experience handling firearms. Real ones, anyway.

He sprinted, or tried to sprint with his injuries, out the room and charged, bringing the heavy metal gun down hard on Germany's head.

Because he was no fool, Germany dodged the hit and brought out his own pistol, but America, anticipating this, ducked below the barrel of the German nation's gun and kicked his legs out under him. It wasn't the best of moves, so Germany only staggered back a few steps. But Arthur had freed himself with the lockpicks America had given him during that little scene. He tackled Germany to the floor and America delivered the final blow. This time, his gun successfully knocked Germany out cold.

Arthur stepped back and let out a shaky breath. "The element of surprise never fails to work. That was some nice acting."

"Learned it from TV," Alfred said. "We better move, and fast. This guy won't stay down for long."

Arthur freed Kiku with the lockpicks. "That's an understatement. Where did you find these picks?"

"Some other room," Alfred replied. "It was kind of like a storage room, I think."

"We must retrieve our weapons first," Kiku said. "It is too dangerous to walk around unarmed."

Their weapons were in the neighboring room to the prison. Kiku's weapon was, Alfred recognized, a Type 44 Carbine, developed by the Japanese in 1911. His rifle was slightly shorter than Arthur's, but equally as accurate.

"We can't let any more bombs set off," Arthur said, as they navigated through the maze of twisting hallways.

"Yeah," Alfred agreed, looking down at all his injuries.

"Then we should try to defuse them before they activate." Kiku ran his fingers along the smooth barrel of his rifle. "The closer we are to ending this war, the more obvious the person who started this mess will be, and that person is most likely..."

"The Error," Arthur finished. "I say we go..."

"Go where?"

All three stopped in their tracks. Standing in of them was a tall guy in a blue uniform. He had platinum hair and eyes the color of deep crimson, and wore such a self-satisfied smirk it made Alfred want to knock it off his face.

But he didn't, of course. Because this was the person who helped him win his independence. Who freed him and made him who he was.

"Let the awesome me accompany you on your little trip," Prussia said. "It must be very exciting, for you to be so heavily armed."

Seeing their suspicious faces, Prussia laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I won't tell West, you have my word."

_End of Chapter Eight_

* * *

**...My chapter names just get lamer and lamer. I'm seriously out of ideas, guys. If you happen to have a sudden strike of inspiration, please tell me if you come up with any good names! And yeah, the allies are weird. England, Japan, Russia and China on one side, America, Germany, the Italys and South Korea on the other. **

**By the way, thanks for supporting this story, and thanks to Froggiecool for reviewing like a boss. :D Review to tell me your ideas/comments!**

******Yeah, that's about it. Remember to spread the word!**

**I shall go back to studying now...**

**Shuggles~ (It means goodbye. My friend made it up.)**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	9. Phantom in the Mirror

**Hey again! Here's another update to keep you on your toes while we work on the game. By the way, if you want to see some screenshots/art/whatever, please check out our group on deviantART at the link here:**

**(insert standard http thing here) aph-seventalia . deviantart (dot com)**

**This chapter might come off as a little boring because it was made for the sole purpose of matching with the gameplay. It may read as dull, but if you were to play it it'd be fun, trust me. **

**Enjoy~**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Phantom in the Mirror**

_Phantom in the Mirror_

_Owner: Prussia_

_World 1_

_Type: Zweihänder (German two-handed longsword)_

She was so obviously lost, but she wouldn't dare admit it. After all, there was nothing scarier being lost in an unfamiliar place. Lili scolded herself for being so forgetful. Switzerland had drilled the directions into her head more than once, and yet she just had to forget.

The first part, the teleportation, was easy. They'd practiced going to several other countries. Safe countries, of course; some were too dangerous to cross into. All it took was to think about the country, and in only seconds they'd be at desired nation.

"In a forest in France, there's a hidden door leading underground," Switzerland had said, and after that a series of complicated directions involving this tree and that meadow. He had taken her to the forest, but no further because, if he was involved, the Creator would be suspicious and Lili would never make it out alive.

"Eighty-ninth tree, ninety-ninth iris," Lili muttered to herself. It felt like an impossible task; she'd already lost count at the fifty-third iris. They were strange coordinates, but she knew that if she didn't find her destination, there would be nothing left to help her.

_Eighty seven, eighty eight, eighty nine. _She was here. At least, she hoped she was.

Lili swallowed, gripping her gun so hard sweat began to dampen the leather grip. Slowly she raised her hand and traced a small spiral with a triangle at the center onto the thick bark shell of the tree.

A gear whirled somewhere, and she heard a soft click.

A loud crack ensued and the bark layer of the large tree peeled away, revealing a metal door. There was no doorknob, only a flat box demanding an access code.

Fingers shaking, she typed in the year the French Revolution erupted. The screen on the box blinked and the door slid open, revealing darkness. Fearing, she reached her hand in and felt nothing but empty air.

She took a deep breath, gathered her nerves, and jumped.

. . . .

The fall lasted a couple of seconds; Lili didn't even have the time to scream. She could feel the wind in her hair, her breath catching in her throat, the cold air whistling in her ears...

She landed on something soft. Lili took a moment to gather herself, then shakily got to her feet. She was in a dim room. There was nothing around her but a simple white door.

Lili stepped forward and twisted the doorknob, relieved to find a less than challenging obstacle. Why, the door wasn't even locked...

Immediately alarms began to blare. A screen she hadn't noticed before flashed a warning. As if she'd been shocked, Lili jerked her hand back and turned to run, only to remember the only exit was twenty feet above.

She held her breath and waited, but no guards came rushing from in or out. Instead, red lights from all around cast their gazes upon her like small eyes. A split second later, they shot out equally red beams, each as thin as spider silk. When they hit the ground, a wisp of smoke formed at each spot.

Lili danced away before one beam could fix itself on her. The hem of her shirt fell victim, however, and the fabric burned away, reduced to dust. She gulped, a thin trickle of sweat making its way down her forehead. Before another could assign her a fate similar to the edge of her shirt, Lili pressed herself against the cold white wall and held her breath as a beam swept across the floor, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake.

When it had passed and she was sure moving would be safe, Lili turned to look across the room. The door had swung open, as if daring her to enter, but it was too dark to tell what was beyond. Somehow, she knew it wasn't going to wait forever.

Lili slowly began to advance across the room, careful not to come in contact with any of the red lights. There were a few close calls, but in a little more than a minute she had made it safely to the door.

Her heart pounding from such a narrow escape, Lili quietly stepped through and shut the door behind her.

. . . .

The next room lit up immediately the moment she stepped inside. There was nothing that displayed the significance of the room, but that just made her warier.

In front of her was yet another door, but Lili had learned her lesson and wasn't about to make the same mistake again. She fished out a coin from her pocket and tossed it.

The coin clinked softly against the floor. Nothing happened.

She couldn't wait forever. Cautiously, Lili took a step forward. Then another. Then another. Then another, until she was literally just walking towards the door. Before she touched the doorknob, her eyes swept the room one last time.

When she touched the knob, the floor gave away.

Lili screamed as her hands fumbled for a hold, but her fingers grasped empty air. Her thoughts flashed back to a memory from so many years ago, one she would never forget. She'd been on the balcony, singing to herself, only seven years old. A vine had climbed all the way up their house, and from it had sprout a tiny, fragile flower that shone when the sunlight splashed on it. She had been trying to reach it, going as far as to climb onto the balcony edge, her fingers outstretched. Only seconds later the hard cement of the balcony had disappeared.

She couldn't remember much of the fall, only that moment when she realized she was falling and cold fear gripped her heart. And then she had heard a grunt and arms supporting her weight, felt the warmth beneath her and the relief that coursed through her veins like rushing water. She'd been trembling, sobbing, but safe.

Lili had opened her eyes to her brother staring down at her, his face white as a sheet. "B-Big bruder?"

Vash had said, "Don't do stupid things like that. It's dangerous," set Lili down, and gone back to working on his gun model.

She made another desperate grab and something rough dug into her fingers. A rope.

Shuddering at her narrow escape, Lili held on to the rope like it was her lifeline. Perhaps it had been placed here in case the system made an error and sent one of the guards tumbling down. She swung forward and grabbed onto the wall. Footholds were dug into the wall and Lili slipped her feet inside them, her hands still wrapped tight around the rope. Slowly she placed a foot into a foothold slightly above the previous, and then lifted herself upward.

It seemed eternity had passed when she finally made it to the surface. Lili let go of the rope and watched it tumble into the darkness, then crawled away from the gaping hole and collapsed, her entire body shaking. She felt tears coming but willed them away. _No, I won't cry. I have to escape this horrible game._

After she had caught her breath, Lili stumbled past the awaiting door. Unlike the previous rooms, this room wasn't empty. Chairs and tables were placed almost symmetrically, except that most the ones on the left were broken and rotted, and the ones on the right mostly clean and new. There was a vase at each side, one full of fresh red roses, the other empty. Some of the paintings were disturbing; one of them portrayed a child's birthday party. All the kids in the picture were smiling and laughing, but the rest of the scene was wrong. In the background, a silhouette of a hanged person was painted, his feet dangling and arms limp. The cake on the table was oozing some kind of black substance. What seemed to be a human heart sat next to the cake, still pumping. The presents were rotting, fruit flies buzzing around the ribbons. And the birthday boy seemed to be smiling like the rest, but at a closer glance the wild hysterical laughter coming from him was not really a laugh, but a scream, his eyes bulging out in extreme terror instead of excitement. What looked like red face paint became blood dripping down his face, and somehow the shadows on the children's faces became decayed flesh, bits of bone peaking out from underneath...

Lili looked away, her breathing picking up speed again. She wanted to tear down the picture and toss it in the hole in the previous room, but that was probably not the best idea. She scanned the room again. The whole place could be a mirror image, she decided, save for a few misplaced items. _I wonder..._

She removed half the roses in the left vase and placed them in the right one. She rearranged the chairs, tables, and adornments, until the entire room was symmetrical, broken items on the left and new ones on the right. She switched the paintings around, moving the birthday party picture to the left side of the room.

And the door swung open.

. . . .

"Liechtenstein," the man in the chair said, "or is it Lili?"

"Lili," she confirmed. She shuffled her feet, suddenly feeling awkward. "Are...are you Austria?"

"So Switzerland sent you," he said, mostly to himself. "About time. And yes, I am Austria. Are you here to get me out of this awful place?"

"I...I think so," Lili answered. She moved towards Austria and began sawing at his ropes with the Swiss Army knife Switzerland had given her.

"That oaschloch France locked me up because he didn't have the guts to pick a fight with the stronger countries like Russia or China," Austria said as she worked. "But that's all he's good for, don't you think? Picking on the smaller countries?"

"Uh, yes." Lili cleared her throat. "Mr Austria?"

"Just Austria is fine," he said. "What is it?"

"Switzerland told me to come here because you knew something important," Lili said, as she finished cutting the last of Austria's ropes.

He rolled his shoulders and rubbed the places where the ropes had dug into his skin. "Ah, yes. Of course. You want to know who the Error is."

She nodded.

Austria leaned forward in his chair, his violet eyes darkening. "We aren't supposed to know," he said in a low voice. "None of us are. But I found out by accident when I was patrolling Vienna. He was there, planting a bomb in Schönbrunn Palace. Naturally, I was furious. He was destroying a world heritage site!"

"So who was it?" Lili asked.

"I shouted at him and he ran," Austria continued. "He was wearing a hood, but I glimpsed his face for a split second." He leaned closer. "It was..."

That was when time slowed down.

The silence was deafening as Austria faltered and his eyes grew large. Suddenly he wasn't in the chair anymore, but laying on the floor, trembling violently.

"Austria! A-Are you okay?" Lili knelt next to him.

"Vienna," he said in voice barely above a whisper. "They're destroying Vienna."

Lili could only look on in horror as he coughed blood and crimson pooled onto the floor. She stood to see if she could find anything of use when she saw the words on the wall.

They were blood red and still dripping, each letter forming slowly across the white surface.

_CHEATER. _

Austria grabbed her wrist and yanked her down until his lips were right by her ear. "The...Error...is...sia," he whispered, and coughed weakly.

"Don't talk," Lili said. "You need help!"

But Austria shook his head. "...rror...is...sia," he repeated.

Lili, helpless, leaned closer to hear him better. "W-Who is it...?"

"...Russia," Austria said, almost inaudibly.

_Cheater, _a voice was chanting in her head, and all around the bloodstained room. _Cheater, cheater, cheater, cheater, cheater..._

"Russia?" Lili asked desperately. "Is it Russia?"

_CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER CHEATER _

When he didn't reply, Lili shook him. "Austria, please, stay with me!" she cried, but the light in his eyes had died and Austria was gone.

_End of Chapter Nine_

* * *

**Congratulations, you just finished 2000 words. Thanks for reading and again, if you want to see stuff about the game go to the link at the top of the page. **

**Byes~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	10. Rose of the Eldritch

**Hi, guys! I'm back again with the tenth chapter. So I typed like crazy and ended up with 4000 words. Broke my rule of being short and concise...**

**Enjoy this insanity~**

* * *

**Chapter 10: Rose of the Eldritch**

_Rose of the Eldritch_

_Owner: France_

_World One _

_Type: __Fusil à Répétition modèle F2 (FR F2 sniper rifle)_

Prussia proved to be a very, one could say, _lively _companion. Usually Alfred was the loud one, but he was in too weak a state to strike up conversation. The Prussian made up for Alfred's lack of speech, however.

"Did I ever tell you about that time I kicked Austria's ass?" Prussia asked, as they were spending the night in an abandoned McDonald's.

"Yes," Kiku replied. _Half a hundred times._

Prussia shrugged. "Oh, well. I was pretty awesome then, don't you think?"

Arthur finally lost his patience. "Yes, yes, you were awesome," the British boy grumbled. "We bloody heard you the first fifty times."

"Aw, you guys are no fun," Prussia complained.

"Why don't you just shut your bloody trap and let us rest, for Christ's sake?"

"How can the awesome me express his awesomeness without a form of communication?" Prussia smirked at Arthur, his red eyes taunting the Brit. "Remember that time I defeated you and the four-eyed aristocrat and you ran away?"

"I wasn't _running away_," Arthur growled. "I was just too busy beating that French frog to pulp to worry about your sorry arse."

"Oh, really? What about the Revolutionary War? Couldn't get your hands around his neck then, could you?"

Arthur jumped to his feet. "How about you come over here so I can get my hands around _your _puny neck?"

"Please stop, the two of you," Kiku said hurriedly before they drew their weapons. "We're on the same side, remember? Fighting amongst ourselves will get us nowhere."

Arthur glared at Prussia, who returned the look with a smug grin, but sat down reluctantly.

The silence that ensued proved too uncomfortable for the Japanese young man to withstand. "I have an idea," Kiku said. "We do not know each other very well, so how about we introduce ourselves? Arthur, you can start."

Arthur stared at the floor in sullen silence. After a moment he raised his eyes to look at the other three. "I'm Arthur, Arthur Kirkland. I come from the UK and am 17 years old at the present." He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Will that suffice?"

"Yes," Kiku answered, relieved. He then continued, "My name is Kiku Honda, and I am also a 17-year old from Japan. My interests are game designing and reading manga. Arthur is my good friend and helps me test the RPGs I make before I release them to the public."

After a short pause, Alfred finally spoke, for the first time that night. He sounded like himself again, Kiku noticed, and the color had returned to his face. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, the hero! I love fast food, sports, and anything super-sized. I'm a junior from America, land of the free and home of the awesome!"

Arthur bristled slightly at the last part, but made no comment.

Prussia surveyed each of them with dark red eyes, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. He then laughed and said, "Well, I'm the awesome Prussia, of course. I'm 312 years old at the moment, if I calculated correctly. I like only two things, and they are sleeping and fighting. I am the most awesome nation out there."

Arthur snorted. "Last time I checked, all that's left of you is a town in Canada and a five-meter long cement block with your name plastered on it."

Prussia's face darkened at the comment and his eyes flashed dangerously, but it was gone in half a heartbeat and the self-satisfied smirk was back again. "Oh, I don't know. My kingdom might revive. I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Unfortunately."

The rest of the night was spent in peaceful quiet, despite their situation and the obvious fact that Arthur couldn't stand being in the same room with Prussia. Kiku leaned against the wall, allowing his weary eyes to slide shut for the day, and Alfred had already made himself comfortable and was snoring softly in the corner. Arthur went behind the counter and was silent after that. Prussia offered to take first watch and sat next to the entrance where two glass doors had once been. The night was chilly; the wind intruded often and stole away some of Kiku's sleep each time.

A long while later, by which time Kiku was still awake, Prussia spoke. "Hey, Kiku?"

"Yes?"

There was a long pause. When Kiku began thinking he had heard wrong, Prussia sighed and said, "Never mind."

No more was spoken after that.

. . . .

"Well, this is it," Arthur said. "Shanghai, China."

It seemed that the more prosperous and bustling the city, the greater the damage inflicted upon it by the war. Shanghai had been the jewel of China, but was now a black mess polluted with smoke, fire, and acid rain. What Kiku found the most eerie was the deafening silence that suffocated the city.

There was one part of Shanghai that still appeared intact, however, and that was where they found their destination. Parked near the Huangpu River was the entrance to the Chinese military base, disguised as a self-regulating ice cream truck.

"Order the ginger flavored ice cream 4 times and the almond lychee flavored 9 times," Arthur said. "Is that right, Kiku?"

"Yes," Kiku confirmed, and pressed the corresponding buttons on the truck. The machine lit up and hummed in response.

"Hey, it has cookies and cream," Alfred noted. "Can I order a double dip?"

"No," answered Arthur automatically.

"Pleaaase?"

"This is serious business," Arthur scolded. "And besides, shouldn't you eat healthier with your physical condition?"

"I can eat ice cream anytime I like. Kiku will say yes. Right, Kiku?" Alfred turned to Kiku expectantly.

"I'm sorry, Alfred," Kiku had to say. "We shouldn't—" He was cut off by the ground giving away, sending them all to tumble into the deep, dark underground of the city.

He would have landed on his face if he hadn't reached out his hands to break his fall. Kiku landed hard onto something only mildly soft, wincing as pain shot up his arms.

"China never takes my suggestion to use something softer," Arthur grumbled, rubbing his head where he'd banged it against the side of the tunnel. "Someone should tell him that a yoga mat doesn't exactly stop someone from breaking their bloody limbs."

"So, what's the plan?" Prussia asked, getting up from where he'd landed. "Do we take over this base by force, or what?"

"Kiku and I will go in and distract China, Russia if he's there," Arthur replied. "You and Alfred try to cancel the missiles headed for Europe."

"But won't there be a password?" Alfred asked.

That was a problem, because even Arthur and Kiku didn't know the access code to China's weapons. "Look around," Arthur suggested. "Maybe you'll find something helpful."

"I guess," Alfred said doubtfully.

Arthur nodded. "Let's go, then." He typed in the 8-digit code to the awaiting metal door and the four passed through, entering a circular room.

"You have to go through a full body scan to move on," Arthur said. "There is no way for Alfred and Prussia to pass that..."

Kiku scanned the room and caught sight of an air vent. "Perhaps enter from there?" he suggested, gesturing towards the metal grate.

Alfred approached the grate and tugged at it. "Hmm, we need a screwdriver to unlock this thing. Anybody got one?"

There was a pause as everyone worked to answer this question. Not surprisingly, the required tool was not available.

At the moment where desperation had reached its peak, Alfred said, "Uh, let me try something." He hooked his fingers in the gaps of the grate and ripped it off, grunting with the effort.

"How did you do that?" Kiku asked, amazed.

"Nice trick you've got there," Prussia said approvingly.

Alfred shrugged. "I dunno. Something America can do, I guess. It _is _a superpower."

"Now that we've solved that dilemma, let's get a move on," Arthur said. "Is the shaft wide enough for you two to fit?"

Alfred squeezed inside the shaft and his head disappeared from sight. A second later he stuck his hand out and flashed a thumbs up.

"Alright," Arthur said, as Prussia followed Alfred in. "Kiku, shall we proceed?"

. . . .

China was in the operations room, staring intently at a screen that showed the world map and current status of all nuclear missiles. Arthur and Kiku must have seemed in really bad shape, because China stood immediately when they entered.

"_Shàngdì_, what happened to you two, aru?" China exclaimed. "You look like you just witnessed South Korea angry!"

"As a matter of fact, that's exactly what happened," Arthur said dryly, sitting down in a chair next to China. "Is there any tea available?"

"I do have some ginger and a bit of leftover oolong, but that's not something you would prefer," China said. "What did he do, aru?"

"We ran into him on the way here," Kiku explained, taking the seat next to Arthur. "It just so happened that he had a bat with him."

China winced at the mental image. "That must not have been a pretty sight, aru."

"No," Arthur agreed. He shifted to face the screens. "What's the update on the missiles?"

"My spies told me Germany is planning to destroy this base with America," China said bitterly. "It's a bit of trouble, aru."

_Ironic_, thought England. Maybe it hadn't been necessary to take out Germany. "I see. Anything else?"

"Berlin will be destroyed in 17 minutes, followed by Brussels and Oslo 9 minutes later," China answered grimly. "Beijing is still holding out, but America's missile will strike it in less than an hour, aru. Yokohama is in danger of being targeted as well."

Japan's dark eyes were unreadable.

Arthur's stomach twisted. "And Russia? Where is he in all of this?"

"He was negotiating some business in India, but he should be back any minute now," China said, crushing Arthur's hopes of avoiding the sinister northern nation.

"We should do something about the missile aiming for your capital, China," Kiku finally spoke in quiet tones. "If we don't succeed in annihilating the weapon..."

"I know, aru." China sighed wearily. "Sometimes I really don't know what to think about this war. Russia seems intent on world domination, America's acting the hero but no one knows his true motives, and Germany's just doing his best to defend Europe. The allies are twisted, aru. Before, could you imagine Japan and I sitting in the same room?"

It was true, England knew, and that made him sad. "No. I find that hard to believe even now."

There were a few seconds of silence before China stood and spoke in a more cheerful tone, "Russia should be here by now, so let's head to the conference room and not waste our precious time, aru!"

He almost followed China but remembered what he was here for. Forgetting could be very dangerous. "Let me just check on a few things here," Arthur said, sending Kiku a quick glance. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay, but don't take too long, aru," China said, making for the door. "You don't want to make Russia angry."

After China's footsteps faded away, Arthur and Kiku set to work.

. . . .

Alfred was not having a good time.

Unlike in the movies, sneaking in through the ventilation system didn't seem a very heroic task. Instead of being all badass and secret agent-like, Alfred felt like a clumsy idiot.

"Hurry up," Prussia hissed behind him. "Your ass is in my face."

That annoyed Alfred. "Hey, it's not like I crawl through air vents in my spare time. I'm trying, okay?"

Prussia huffed, but didn't reply. Alfred squeezed along the narrow tunnel. The task was more difficult than it had to be because his left leg and a couple of ribs were still broken, although they were healing at nation rate.

Alfred froze when he heard voices below him. Prussia responded to this by exclaiming, "Why are you stopping? We don't have all the time in the world, you know!"

"Shut up!" Alfred growled. "Somebody's beneath us."

They listened to the muffled conversation with their ears pressed against the metal. Alfred guessed there were two people in the room.

"Where are England and Japan?" a voice demanded. That was Russia.

"They will be here in a few minutes, aru." That was China.

"They better be," Russia said. His tone was casual, but there was impatience underneath. "We have to deal with the eastern European countries. Poland's interfering with my plans, too, and Lithuania's just following him around."

Alfred felt resentment swell in his chest. _That bastard. If he lays a finger on Lithuania..._

"We'll get him," Prussia whispered suddenly, and Alfred realized he'd spoken out loud.

"Of course, aru," China said. "Is Moscow still in good shape?"

"Barely," Russia answered bitterly. "St. Petersburg has already been destroyed."

China paused, then said, "I'm sorry, Russia."

"It makes no matter. My people are seeking refuge in your country and my sisters'. Ukraine's happy about that, Belarus even more so, but neither are in a much better condition." Russia added impatiently, "Where are England and Japan? They should be here by now."

"I'll go look for them," China told the northern nation. His receding footsteps marked the last of his presence and when he was gone, Russia let out a small, barely audible sigh.

"We better hurry," Alfred whispered to Prussia. "Arthur and Kiku are running out of time."

The Prussian nodded, and they continued through the shaft at a steady pace.

However, only a few meters ahead did something go wrong.

Alfred felt a white hot pain sear his arm and yelped, lurching backwards. He knocked into Prussia, who let out a cry and said, "AHH! What's wrong this time?"

"I think something burned me." Alfred rubbed his arm where he'd been seared. "What the hell was that?"

Prussia pushed Alfred off him and leaned over the American's shoulder, studying something on the ceiling of the shaft. "It's a motion detector," Prussia concluded after a moment. "West has something like this in his house. Supposedly it detects any intruders and turns them to ashes. You're lucky only your arm was burned."

Alfred looked down at his arm in horror. Prussia seemed to read his thoughts and assured him, "It's not going to disintegrate; you crashed into me before _that _could happen."

"So how do we get past this thing?" Alfred asked, concealing his relief. He was not breaking into any military stronghold one-armed.

Prussia bit his lip thoughtfully. "I sneak beer out of West's house a lot. Usually just moving very slowly got me past."

"Let's try that, then," Alfred said, and began inching forward.

"Slower," Prussia instructed. "Bat an eye and the next moment you'll be nothing but dust."

Alfred obeyed, holding in his breath. He sensed Prussia following silently behind him. The process was slow and more terrifying than he could admit, but before he knew it they'd made it past.

"There's an opening," Alfred said, squinting at a small patch of light ahead of them. "I dunno where it leads to, though."

"As long as we can get out of this place, I don't give a damn," Prussia said, rather carelessly.

They struggled forward at the fastest pace possible until they reached the light. Alfred rammed into the grate and it gave away. The two nations jumped down and blinked at the sudden change of brightness.

They were in a room filled with different sorts of disks and files. A sign indicated that they were in the archive room.

"All of China's secret files are stored in here," Prussia said amazedly. "This is probably the most important room in the nation."

"Let's go find Arthur and Kiku before we check anything out," Alfred said, though a bit curious himself. "This stuff is cool, but I have a bad feeling those two are in some deep shit."

. . . .

It was one of those times where Arthur admired Kiku's technical skills. Kiku was typing away furiously at the screens, attempting to hack into the system.

Unfortunately, nothing was ever so simple.

The Japanese boy sat back, a frown on his lips. "The firewall is too strong; it's almost impossible to break through China's security. The best I can do is prevent it from self-destructing after three passcode tries."

"That's great, Kiku," Arthur said. "Now we'll just have to keep guessing until we hit the right combination..."

"I do not want to be blunt, but there are three passwords, Arthur," Kiku cut in. "Each has 10 figures and can be anything from A-Z, 0-9. How can we accomplish that in just a few minutes?"

Kiku had spoken the devastating truth, and Arthur could feel all the hope drain out of him with every word. "It isn't impossible," Arthur insisted, but his will was weakening. "We still might..."

"England? Japan?" China entered the room. "What are you doing? Russia is getting tired of waiting for you two, aru."

It was then that a wild idea struck Arthur. Ridiculously, he'd gotten it from one of America's ludicrous movies. Curse the nation for forcing him to stay up countless nights watching films because the former didn't want to watch the bloody things alone.

"There's something terrible," Arthur cried, hoping he sounded panicked enough. "In 30 seconds one of your bombs will hit Novosibirsk!"

China's eyes grew large. "But how can that be? All my missiles are functioning perfectly, aru!"

"Perhaps there was a malfunction," Kiku said, playing along. "You must hurry and terminate it before Russia is doomed."

The slightest hint of suspicion passed China's face, but he rushed to the screens anyway and typed in the passwords. Unfortunately, the Chinese man was smart enough to shield the keyboard and screen from view. China could be shrewd when he wanted to, Arthur realized in dismay.

There was only one thing left to do. When the idea formed in his head, Arthur knew he had watched one too many American action movies.

Arthur removed his rifle, which had been strapped to his back, and held it against China's head. The Asian nation stiffened.

"Don't move," Arthur whispered, before China could hit enter, "or I'll shoot."

Somewhere inside, he was laughing at himself.

"What is the meaning of this, England?" China demanded.

"I'll let you go once I get those codes," Arthur replied. "That's all I need."

"Are you crazy, aru?" China cried. "Whoever gets their hands on those can annihilate the earth!"

"Aren't we doing the same thing?" Arthur said, remembering a quote he'd once read from a book. "No more talk. I want you to remove your hands from the keyboard."

China did nothing. "You know that if you shoot me, I won't die."

"Shanghai is destroyed, Beijing soon enough. All your ports are blocked by American troops. And did I mention a few troops of mine are invading Guangzhou this very moment?" The last part was a lie, but hopefully China didn't know that.

"You traitor," China hissed, but Arthur preferred that over being called off as bluffing. "Are you in his schemes, too, Japan?"

"Yes," came the cold reply. "Did you really think I would be your ally?"

Arthur's gaze shifted towards Kiku. His eyes were black and hollow, nothing like their usual soft dark brown. He had Japan's eyes.

China became very quiet, the kind of quiet that occurred after witnessing a terrible death or betrayal. Then, slowly, he let go of the keyboard. "You can take the passcodes," China said finally in a dull, flat voice. "The safety of my people is too much to risk. I can't let you hurt them. But Russia will make you pay for this, and so will I, aru. So will I."

Arthur felt a flash of guilt and his hold on the gun loosened ever so slightly. _Don't be ridiculous, _he scolded himself. _They are only NPCs. Nothing matters more than escape. _"I'll tell my soldiers to retreat," he heard himself say, and lowered the rifle. "Thank you, China. That was all we required."

Kiku silently approached and recorded the codes, while Arthur put away his weapon. Everything was going well; Kiku was moving along the row of screens, inputting commands for all the missiles to self-destruct.

That was when Russia entered.

"Russia" China cried, and Arthur hurried to cover his mouth.

"What is going on in here?" Russia demanded, his violet eyes burning with cold fury. "We do not have anything time to waste, do you know that?"

_Bloody hell, we're in deep trouble. _"I-It's nothing," Arthur stuttered weakly, but the whole scene was giving them away. "We're just..."

China pushed away Arthur's hand and said, "They're traitors, aru! Kill them, Russia!"

Russia's eyes darkened. "I hate traitors," he said softly, in a childish but extremely dangerous way. "I suppose I will have to eliminate you two. It's a shame, England. We could have built a new empire together, and restored the one lost."

Regret rose to his chest, but that was England's regret so Arthur willed it away. "Kiku, we have to leave!" he said, and ran for the door. But Russia moved at an incredibly fast speed and blocked the exit before Arthur could reach it.

"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Russia said, with a malicious smile. "I'm going to play with you for a little while." His scarf moved of its own accord to wrap around Arthur's neck, effectively choking him.

Arthur struggled weakly, trying to push the other nation away, but he was no match for Russia's superhuman strength. He heard Kiku shout something, but Russia ignored the Japanese boy's cries. Arthur could feel the life drain out of him and his punches became more and more feeble.

The scarf suddenly loosened and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for air. He looked up to find Alfred and Prussia standing above him. Alfred was clutching his arm like he'd been burned and Prussia's hair and clothes were rumpled, probably from their trip through the ventilation shafts.

"You get your hands off him," Alfred growled, glaring at Russia. Arthur vaguely remembered that America and Russia weren't the best of friends.

Russia pouted like a little kid. "I was just getting to the fun part." He smiled. "But now that you two are here, I have more nations to play with." He began advancing towards Alfred. Prussia took a step back and put a hand on his sword.

Alfred was in no condition to fight, that was clear enough. Arthur was worrying about this when Alfred did something unexpected; he brought out a cloth and thrust it against Russia's nose and mouth. Russia's eyes widened and he tried to remove Alfred's hands, but their strength was equal and the American didn't budge.

Two seconds later, Russia dropped to the floor next to Arthur, out cold. Arthur got to his feet and stared down at the northern country's still figure.

"Chloroform," Alfred explained, dusting himself off. "Found some in the storage room. Man, it's just like in the movies; he's out like a light."

Kiku, who had been mutely terminating China's missiles, stepped back with satisfaction. "All of China's nuclear weapons have self-destructed."

China stared at the four of them in shock. "W-What are you going to do to me?"

"Nothing," Arthur promised in a hoarse voice. He was still suffering from the effects of Russia's strangling. "We'll be on our way now. Good luck, China."

. . . .

"What's the plan now?" Prussia inquired, as they stopped at an abandoned Chinese convenience store for some food and water.

"We will take a trip to Russia, and from there we'll go to Europe," Kiku replied. "There are several European countries on Japan's side."

"Sure. I want to pay West's country a visit, anyway." Prussia sounded normal, but Alfred thought he heard something else underneath. Uneasiness, maybe?

"Let's call it a morning," Arthur said, yawning. "I could really use a nap right now."

"That sounds good," Alfred agreed. He was tired himself from his journey through China's air vents. His injuries weren't completely healed yet, either.

A low thump at the back of the store caused him to look up from his food hunt. "Huh, what was that?"

The four companions approached the source of the noise. Alfred tossed aside a couple of cardboard boxes to reveal someone hiding beneath.

"Don't hurt me!" Italy cried, shielding his head with his hands. "I'll do anything you want, I promise!"

_End of Chapter Ten_

* * *

**I do love it when China is philosophical, Iggy is badass (come on, he rarely gets a chance to shine and is always the damsel in distress, with either France or America saving him), Prussia is awesome, Kiku is a technical genius, Al saves the day, and Russia is...Russia.**

**There hasn't been much about Toni or Lovi, but I'll get to them next chapter. Mhmm.**

**Hope you enjoyed that long chappie. Thanks for reading and see you next time!**

**Ciao,**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	11. Bloodlett

**Hey, fellow Hetalians! Today's my birthday, so I decided to upload this chapter. It's shorter than the previous one, but still a bit lengthy. Credits to Anime Alert for the chapter title.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 11: Bloodlett**

_Bloodlett_

_Owner: Russia _

_World 1_

_Type: AK-47 assault rifle _

Antonio had never been to Japan before, and he had certainly never seen the country in such a state. Everything seemed so...lifeless.

There were people, of course, but not the cheerful, polite Japanese citizens one would expect to meet. No, these people had become monsters, wrecked by devastation. Street fights erupted at random, most for money, others for no reason whatsoever. The prices had shot up, angering the people even further, as if they weren't already mad at their government.

Lovi had gone to Serbia with Feliciano. He'd wanted to go with them, but there was business in Japan to be dealt with, although he wasn't entirely sure exactly what kind of business it was, just that he had to sneak into Osaka's military base and retrieve some files. Oh, and figure out which nation was the Error, kill him, and move on to the next world.

_Could it be Japan? _Antonio thought, as he traveled through Osaka's streets. It didn't seem likely, but the Error could be anyone. He found it unfair that the Creator hadn't given them any clues at all.

The Japanese military base was a low, flat building that lacked adornment. The area around the base was infested with American soldiers, who were either standing around doing nothing or ordering the Japanese citizens around. It was strange that the base hadn't opened fire at them. Maybe it was because they hadn't forgotten the events of World War II.

Antonio wondered how he was to get inside with all the soldiers and guards standing around. He didn't look like much; he had on a T-shirt with the Spanish flag and jeans that were torn from his trip inside the game, but his overall impression practically screamed enemy country. He could pretend he was just a Spanish guy who'd somehow found himself on a whole other continent, but he was pretty sure these people knew who he was.

Germany had given him some tools, Antonio remembered. Probably so he could use them. Stuffed in his pockets was a bottle of xenon and an accompanying patch of cloth, smoke bombs, grenades, extra ammunition, a fake ID with corresponding fingerprints, and an iPhone 5. He also had a dangerous-looking magazine, which was strapped to his side. The whole scenario was so movie-like Antonio wanted to laugh. He almost did, when one of the patrolling American soldiers shot him a glare.

That gave Antonio an idea. Straight out of Hollywood, but a way into the base nonetheless. Searching the area with his eyes, he found what he was looking for. Almost hidden in an alley was an idle American soldier. Antonio approached the soldier silently, the cloth damp with chloroform tucked in his hand.

When he was less than a foot away the soldier whirled around, but Antonio tackled him to the ground and covered his face with the cloth. Almost immediately, the soldier's eyes rolled up into his head and he went limp.

Then came the awkward part. Antonio's hands felt detached as he removed the soldier's camouflaged jacket, bulletproof vest and lastly, matching pants and heavy combat boots. He changed into the uniform, muttered an apology, and was out of there before anyone could find out.

As nonchalantly as he could manage, Antonio strolled through the revolving doors of the Osaka military base.

. . . .

Romano wasn't speaking to Italy.

Their time was spent in cold silence. Whenever Italy asked his brother a question, Romano would reply with the shortest answer possible in a chilly voice. Italy tried talking about Spain, who he knew was the only one who had successfully made his brother laugh, but even that tactic ended in failure.

They had somehow wound up in China. Italy was terrible at traveling by mind, so they were going to Serbia the normal way. The brothers were in Shanghai at the moment, trying to find a train that would take them to Xi An. Traveling by air was too dangerous; there was the risk that the neighboring Russia would track them down.

"Romano? Do you want to go see if there's any food in that convenience store over there?" Italy asked, pointing at a shop across the street at the far end.

Romano said nothing and ignored him. Italy sighed. "Okay, fratello, just wait for me here." He left his brother standing on the sidewalk and entered the quiet store.

The place was empty, which was a good thing, Italy supposed. People had eyes, eyes stole truth, and lips spread the secrets. He checked if there was any pasta (even microwavable pasta was better than nothing), moving along the racks.

A sudden image flashed through his mind. It was Romano smirking, a box of pasta in his hand. They were in a Chinese shop, doing...doing what? Italy thought hard, but the image was fading and Italy was back at the desolated store once more.

"Lovino," he said into the silence. The name almost brought tears to his eyes, for a reason he couldn't understand. He wanted to, so, so badly. "Lovino, Lovino, Lovino..."

The sound of voices outside brought Italy out of his thoughts. He glanced outside and, to his horror, realized it was England, Japan, America and Prussia. He didn't know why America was with two enemy nations, one of which Italy feared the most.

_I have to hide! _Italy scanned the place and saw a stack of cardboard boxes. There was no other choice, so he dove in the pile and covered himself as best as possible, just as the four nations came in.

"Let's called it a morning," he heard England say wearily. "I could really use a nap right now."

"That sounds good," America said, which scared Italy. Why was America talking so casually with an enemy country? It didn't make sense!

One of the cardboard boxes on top of him toppled over, causing an audible thump. Panic twisted Italy's stomach and his heart rate shot up.

"Huh, what was that?" He heard America approach and cowered, putting his hands over his head protectively. The boxes were removed and Italy was exposed.

"Don't hurt me!" Italy begged. "I'll do anything you want, I promise!"

America blinked down at him. "Hey, it's Italy. What's he doing here?"

"Maybe he's hiding from you, Kirkland," Prussia said, chuckling. "I wonder where his potty-mouthed brother is."

England knelt and stared Italy in the face. The European nation had sharp, criticizing green eyes, which had always been a reason why Italy was terrified of him. "Where is Romano, Italy?"

"H-He's outside," Italy stammered. "D-Don't kill me, please!"

England sat back on his heels, frowning. "I'm not going to kill you, Italy. I just need some information about some of the European nations. Why are you so afraid of me, anyway?"

"Your eyebrows _are _kinda intimidating," America put in.

"Shut up," England snapped, scowling. He turned back to Italy. "What are you doing in China?"

"F-Fratello and I are just s-stopping here, we're actually going to S-Serbia," Italy answered.

"What business do you have there, Italy?" Japan asked. Italy flinched at the Asian country's voice. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

Japan sighed. "Never mind. It is just that we are going to East Europe, too..."

"D-Don't!" Italy cried. If these nations went to the same place as him and Romano, their mission might not succeed. "I-I mean, it's not really involved in the war or anything, so you shouldn't t-trouble yourselves..."

"What do you think? He might be able to help us with a few European countries on his side," America said. "I don't much about the nations in Europe allies with my country since they're kinda far away, but he might."

Italy, gathering all his courage, cried, "America, you have to run! England and Japan will kill you!"

America looked amused. "Nah, they'd never do something like that. I'd shut down all the McDonald's at their places."

"I really could kill you for that," England said, getting to his feet. "We promise we won't hurt you, Italy. Just travel with us to Europe and we'll decide what happens then. Is that alright?"

"O-Okay," Italy mumbled. They'd promised not to kill him, hadn't they? Besides, Russia wouldn't hurt him and Romano if they were with England and Japan.

The second they stepped out of the door, England was held at gunpoint.

"Get away from him, or I'll blow your fucking brains out, I swear it!" Romano snarled, but his shoulders were trembling.

England didn't seem fazed, only tired. "We're not going to hurt him, Romano."

"Why should I trust anything that comes out of your filthy mouth?"

"Fratello, it's okay," Italy said. "They already had a chance to do so earlier."

Romano wavered, but didn't lower his gun. "How do I know they didn't brainwash you into believing every word they say? Who knows, maybe they got the idea from the potato bastard. What stupid name are you calling yourself now?"

"What do you mean by that?" England asked quietly.

"None of your fucking business," the nation spat, but Italy said, "I don't know why, but he keeps calling me Feliciano and saying that I'm not Italy."

England and Japan exchanged a glance, and there was a silence.

"Well, this is certainly interesting," Prussia remarked.

America asked, "Where'd you come from, Romano?"

Romano seemed taken aback by the question. "South Italy. What are you talking about?"

"No," England said, regarding the country with narrowed emerald eyes. "Where did you really come from?"

"I told you, South Italy," Romano said impatiently, but Italy thought he heard uncertainty underneath. "Why do you think I'm called Romano?"

"Maybe we've got the wrong idea," America said doubtfully.

"Come with us first," Japan said. "You have our word we won't attack you or your brother."

Romano gave them a final glare, then at last lowered the gun, tucking it back into its holster. "Fine, but only because of my stupid ass bro. I won't let down my guard, so don't even think about trying anything."

"Whatever floats your boat, dude," said America, yawning.

. . . .

The Japanese officer with the handlebar mustache was staring at him.

Antonio hoped he looked American enough. Even if that wasn't so, he could always say his parents were from Spain and pray the questions would stop there. The clothes he was wearing made him feel like he was in someone else's skin; every once in awhile he would tug on his collar, or adjust his vest.

Antonio was standing in the entrance lobby, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible, at the same time worrying about whether or not the security system or guards would let him through. The pseudonym he was supposed to take on was typical enough; Daniel something or other. He hoped there was a Daniel in the military force.

The officer was approaching him now, his expression grim. Was it just Antonio's imagination, or was the man's pace a little too quick?

"Sir. Your ID, if you would," the officer said, in lightly accented English.

_Keep your cool. _"Of course," Antonio said, trying to mask his own Spanish accent. He fumbled through his pockets, fishing out the leather card holder, and gave it to the man, who flipped it open and examined it closely.

"David...Sanchez, is it?" the officer asked.

Antonio's heart was pounding so furiously he was afraid the man could hear it. "Yes. I'm a private serving under Corporal...Rogers." That was completely off the top of his head, but this officer couldn't know too much about the American military system.

"Have I seen you somewhere before?" said the man thoughtfully. "You do have quite a familiar face."

Antonio forced a laugh. "Uh, people say that a lot. I have one of those common faces, you know?"

The officer gave him the longest of stares. Antonio felt like the guy's dark eyes were tearing down his disguise, layer by layer. He swallowed and managed a smile.

A million years later, the officer waved dismissively, much to Antonio's relief. "I am sorry," he apologized. "Security has been very tight recently."

"It's fine," Antonio said, eager to end the conversation. "Eh, I'll be on my way now."

With that, he quickly walked away and passed through the security detector, where he was stripped of his gun and everything else metal. That made him feel vulnerable, but he'd rather be unarmed than be questioned by a group of Japanese police with suspicion written on their faces.

Antonio passed through the doors into a quiet hallway. A guard was sitting at the end of the hallway, reading a book. He glanced up when Antonio answered, but that was all.

There was an elevator near the guard that required a password, which he had no clue of. Antonio cleared his throat. "Sir...I forgot the code to the lift. Care to remind me?"

"5491," the guard replied in a bored voice, without looking up.

"Gracias," Antonio thanked him, too grateful to remember his American demeanor. He typed in the digits and entered the elevator.

The interior of the lift was cool and quiet, and he was glad it was empty. A quarter minute later, he stepped out onto the sixth floor. The sound of conversation entered his ears, but it was too muffled for him to distinguish. Antonio headed to the door of the archives room, quietly walking past the source of the voices. Surprisingly, the room was unlocked. Once he was inside, he set to work.

Antonio returned to the main hall fifteen minutes later, the folder tucked under his jacket. He was feeling rather proud of himself as he made for the doors when the shout rang through the air.

"That's him, the one I saw earlier!" the Japanese officer from earlier yelled. "He's Spain!"

_Mierda. _Antonio broke into a sprint, charging out the doors as a tornado of Japanese guards barreled after him. Outside, an angry guy wearing nothing but boxers pointed at him and spewed out a long chain of colorful words in a distinct American accent. Antonio waved at him and ran for his life.

"Over here!" a voice whispered. A pair of eyes were peering out from an alleyway. Antonio really didn't have much of a choice, so he dove inside as the guards charged past.

"Thanks," Antonio told the person. "What are you doing in Japan?"

"Just checking on a few things," South Korea replied. "The saekki does have some dangerous military technology."

Spain wasn't very well acquainted with South Korea, but he did know that the nation was free-spirited and a generally cheerful person. Ever since the war, though, Korea was far from his usual self. His brown eyes lacked their usual sheen, his stray curl drooped, and he seldom used his catchphrase "Da ze."

"Come on, we have to get out of here before they find us," Korea said. "Follow me."

They went deeper into the alley until they reached a manhole. Korea removed it easily, which Antonio found amazing since he heard one of those metal covers weighed more than 50 kg. He guessed it was a nation thing.

"This leads to a secret Korean base underground," Korea explained, as they climbed down. "Korea and Japan don't have the best relationship, so it's always been there just in case."

"What usually goes on in there?" Antonio questioned. Something was troubling him, but he wasn't quite sure what.

"Not much," South Korea answered. "A few status updates, some drills...that's about it." Antonio followed Korea to a metal door at the end of the long dark passageway, where the Asian country typed in a passcode.

The door slid open with a metallic scrape. "After you," Korea said, motioning for Antonio to enter. He did so, stepping in cautiously. The room was completely devoid of light, and when Korea shut the door behind them it was disturbingly quiet.

"This place is too small to be a base," Antonio said, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Korea said in a voice that turned Antonio's blood to ice, and he was no stranger to the cold. "You'll be spending quite some time here either way."

"What are you talking about?" Antonio demanded, but he sounded braver than he felt. The darkness prevented him from seeing anything, including Korea.

"I'm very sorry, but I'll have to keep you here a while, Antonio," the nation said, and the use of his real name sent chills down his back. "But before I leave, I'll tell you a little about this room."

Quietly, Antonio inched forward until he reached the wall, which was horribly cold. He began moving along the surface, feeling for the door.

"This room is an anechoic chamber," Korea was saying. "It's designed to absorb sound waves instead of echoing them, resulting in a quietness of -9 dBA. The longest anyone has survived in a room like this without losing their sanity is 45 minutes. The only reason why we can still hear each other is because of a gap." He paused. "If you're trying to find the exit, don't bother. It changes at random, and I'm the only one with the key."

Antonio froze, and the Asian nation continued, "Also, to make things a little more interesting, I made sure no light could enter this room. So, no sound, no light. Enough to drive someone insane. The perfect torture chamber, don't you agree?"

"You aren't South Korea, are you?" Antonio asked quietly into the black void.

"No," came the reply. "I already rid myself of that bastard."

Antonio couldn't find anything to say.

North Korea laughed. It was a horrible laugh, the wheezes and sputters of a psychotic tyrant, utterly terrifying and utterly insane. "I'll be on my way now. Goodbye, Antonio Carriedo Fernandez."

There was a sudden brightness as the door opened. Antonio charged towards it, but Korea was quicker and slammed it shut before he could reach it. The gap closed, and that was when he knew the true terror of perfect silence.

Antonio slumped to the ground as the darkness began to devour him, little by little.

_End of Chapter Eleven_

* * *

**Merp. That's it, I guess. I wonder how Toni's going get out of there. D:**

**I have this headcanon that South and North Korea are twins. Oh, and that Arthur and Prussia can't get along. **

**That's it! Remember, go to our dA group for art and stuff. **

**Thanks for reading~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	12. Abyss Flower

**Chapter 12: Abyss Flower**

_Abyss Flower _

_Owner: Hungary _

_World 1_

_Type: Szabla (One-edged curved sword)_

_. . . ._

_The Error is Russia. _

She had to get out of there. The alarms were ringing at a deafening volume, so shrill she couldn't even hear her own hysterical screams.

_The Error is Russia. _

Lili jumped to her feet and staggered backwards, staring in horror at Austria's motionless figure. Her hands were sticky with blood. _Austria's _blood.

_The Error is Russia. Oh God, I have to tell Vash!_

_Switzerland. Not Vash. Never Vash, in this place built of nightmares. _For a moment, she felt content knowing that her brother was safe. Then cold fear froze her chest and she was running, running from that awful room that stank of blood and death, from the wailing alarms and France's prison, afraid, so very afraid.

Once she arrived in Bern, Lili burst through Switzerland's door. She was a few steps into the house before stopping abruptly at the sight before her.

Blood. Blood everywhere. There was red on the furniture, dripping down the walls, pooling on the floor. The smell of rust and salt filled her nose and she stifled a cry.

"Switzerland, are you there?" Lili called, dashing through the house. "Switzerland?"

A silence was the only response she received.

"Switzerland, answer me, please! _Switzerland!" _

"Lili?"

She whirled around and there he was, standing in the doorway. There was a cut on his face and he was bit scratched up, but otherwise he was fine.

"I thought...I thought you..." Lili faltered and hugged herself. She was so cold. "It was horrible. H-He died...right in front of me..."

Without a word, Switzerland approached her, took his coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Lili. Did he tell you what you needed to know?"

"Yes," she whispered. "The Error is Russia."

"Russia," Switzerland repeated, and motioned for her to sit down. She did, on a spot clean of blood. He sat across from her and frowned. "Russia is a possibility, I suppose. He has no reason to accept, though..."

"Accept what?" Lili asked, warming herself in his coat.

Switzerland shook his head, looking slightly disturbed. "It's nothing. Did he tell you anything else?"

"No. He d-died before he could say anymore." Lili paused, then asked, "What happened to you? Why is this place so...so..."

"Bloody?" Switzerland suggested, and she nodded. The Swiss nation's eyes darkened. "I had a few unexpected visitors. It's nothing, really."

"Oh." Lili wondered whose blood was on the furniture.

"Listen carefully," he continued. "You must go to East Europe. There are people there who can help you."

"What sort of people?" she asked warily.

"Outsiders," Switzerland replied, "just like you."

Lili could hardly believe it.

"I have not met them, but they should be..." A loud thump from outside brought Switzerland to his feet. "Scheiße, they're here again..."

"W-What's going on?" Lili stammered, standing up herself.

"Austrian refugees," he replied, as he grabbed his rifle and loaded it with full ammunition. "After Vienna was burned down, its citizens poured into my country. There's only so much I can support, so my country stopped accepting refugees. Dammit, there must be at least twenty outside..."

Multiple shots rang through the air and the windows shattered with the impact of the bullets. Switzerland knocked Lili to the ground before one of them could hit her. The firing continued at an alarming rate, and only seconds later did one of the attackers invade the house.

"Get out of here," Switzerland hissed as he cocked his rifle and fired at the man. The refugee yelped and crumpled to the floor, clutching at his leg.

"But what about you?" Lili cried. "You're outnumbered!"

"I'll manage," he assured her. "Now, go!"

Lili jumped out and flew for the back door, but looked back once at Switzerland's crouching form. The Swiss caught her looking and gave her a rare, bitter smile. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Stay safe, Lili."

"I will." Lili whirled around and fled the house, just as the building exploded behind her.

. . . .

"It started after Greece left the European Union," Prussia explained. "His relationship with West became tense and they stopped trading. Greece managed to develop his own currency, the drachma, into something functional, but his economy was still pretty unawesome.

"Around a year later, there was a bombing in Berlin. Reichstag, the seat of the German Parliament, was damaged severely. West's government did some investigation and came up with the conclusion that the culprit was Greek, and that the bombing was planned by the Greek government."

"That doesn't sound like Greece," Japan murmured.

"No," Prussia agreed. "Anyway, West's boss decided to turn a blind eye, since the whole point of the EU was to prevent war in Europe. But then a couple months there was another bombing, this time in Munich. That attack couldn't be ignored; a week later, West's country declared war."

"That could never happen in real life," Arthur scoffed. "Greece attacking Germany, a nation much more powerful than itself? Where is the logic in that?"

"Exactly," Prussia said. "Greece denied both attacks, but Germany wouldn't hear it. Two weeks later, allies had formed and the EU was torn apart."

"That escalated quickly," America remarked.

"The EU was never that good of an idea," England said. "Once Spain and Greece and even you, Italy, got hold of the Euro you nations began spending more than you had."

Italy looked down ashamedly.

"Don't insult my brother," Romano snapped. "Anyway, that memory refresh isn't the point here. The point is why the fuck we're traveling together. Hell, why are we even in the same room right now? America, you weren't supposed to be with them in the first place!"

"It's complicated, dude," was all America said.

"What the hamburger idiot means is that we are putting an end to the war," England put in. America scowled at the Brit and pouted. "It's quite pointless, we all must agree."

Romano shot England another glare and crossed his arms. "Give me a reason to believe you."

England and Japan exchanged a glance. Then Japan turned to Romano and said, "I'm afraid we cannot tell you, Romano."

"Then I'm outta here." Romano stood and left the table. "Come on, fratello. Let's leave these fuckers to drown in their own stupidity."

"But it's true," Italy said quietly. "What are we all fighting for?"

Romano froze, his shoulders rigid. Italy knew he was furious. _Beyond _furious, and that was not a good thing.

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?" Romano spoke finally, his expression ice. "You fucking screw up everything; remember when you over slept and left the pizza to burn and the entire goddamn mansion almost burned down?"

Italy wasn't listening.

'_...you burn the pizza again?'_

'_Hey, last time was an accident!'_

'_...Fratello, I'm scared.'_

'_We'll be fine, dammit. Just let me find a way out this place...'_

'_...'_

'_...Lovi? Are you there?'_

'_L-Lovi, you're scaring me...'_

'_LOVI!'_

"Italy, what's wrong? Were you attacked?" Japan was looking at him worriedly, and England seemed concerned.

Italy made no reply, only turned to stare at Romano, who was still as stone. Hazel eyes met green, and not a single word escaped to the air.

"Lovi," Feliciano said at last in a small voice. "I...I want to go home."

. . . .

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

_Drip. Drip. Drip. _

_Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

North Korea was wrong, Antonio realized, as he inched closer to the edge of his sanity. His prison wasn't soundless. It was the entire opposite.

Every beat of his heart was thunder. Every drop of cold sweat that escaped to the ground was a storm, every breath a hurricane to his ears. Even his thoughts were deafening, so loud and plangent he once mistook it for sound. And after awhile, he began to believe it _was _sound; anything was better than that terribly final silence that seemed a step away from death. Not physical death, but the kind that tore apart your soul and left you an empty shell.

A clock was ticking, a constant reminder of what little time he had remained. Maybe it was just in his mind, but it didn't really make a difference now. Antonio stared into the never ending darkness and wondered what would happen if he died in this place, so far from home.

Maybe it was alright.

Something about that statement felt wrong, like ice cream that tasted bitter. Antonio sat up and tried to clear his head. _What am I doing? I have a whole summer in Germany waiting for me to enjoy._

Teleporting was impossible with his brain so messed up, but there was one other way.

He brought out his iPhone and turned it on. A blast of light shot through the hazy dark and he averted his eyes, momentarily blinded. It sounded silly, but Antonio felt the device had just saved his life, at least a little.

He flipped it over, thinking. He'd never been that great at school, just your average B student with the occasional A-. He did remember one interesting physics class, though, where the teacher had taught them how to make a battery bomb.

An iPhone 5 used a lithium-ion polymer battery, which, when overcharged or short-circuited, would explode. There were two ways for this to happen; either the battery was connected to a low-resistance conductor, or the energy in the battery was transferred into a shell too weak to contain it.

The USB containing classified Japanese military data was still tucked in his shirt pocket. It wasn't the best way, but within a few minutes he'd created a makeshift charger out of the USB and some spare wire that had been placed ever so conveniently in the soldier's pants pocket. That trick was something Antonio had googled after forgetting to bring his phone charger on the junior class's year end trip to France, when desperate because he couldn't call that sexy French girl whose number he had obtained. Remembering that experience almost brought a smile to his lips; that problem seemed so childish compared to his situation now.

Antonio connected the battery to the charger and tossed it as far away as he could. He closed his eyes, succumbing to the darkness, covered his ears and prayed as the bomb exploded.

To whom he prayed to, he did not know.

* * *

**My God, I sounded like a total nerd this chapter. Thanks to Geirdriful for the battery info, though, I never would've figured it out without her.**

**I love how already six of the players are together, yet they still don't know each other is a player.**

**And good news! Three or four more chapters left and we move to the next world. I have so many ideas for World 2, they're all over the place.**

**Thanks for reading and bye~**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	13. Sasuviet

**HEY LOOK WHAT'S THIS? Oh my god, it's an UPDATE. **

**Anyway, really sorry! I just came back from my 3-week summer camp. If one week counts as "just came back."**

**Enjoy while I go edit the other chapters. The result of writing on a whim instead of planning ahead is way too many plotholes. **

**Chapter title credits go to Anime Alert.**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Sasuviet**

_Sasuviet_

_Owner: Russia_

_World 1_

_Type: Oslop(Russian baton)_

The smoke was suffocatingly thick.

_A game. It's just a game._

The fire and debris were merely illusions. The acid taste on her tongue, the burning tears tracing her cheeks, only results of the manipulative power possessed by the cold-blooded god that ruled this broken world.

"Where's the sister?" Lili heard a man yell in German. "The bitch is still here, I know it."

"Search the area," another voice ordered. "She can't have gone far."

_Just...just a game._

Was the Swiss cross lying amidst the ruins simply another illusion, or a symbol of brutal reality?

"She's hiding in the smoke! Don't let her get away!"

Lili picked up the cross-shaped pin and took off running, fueled by the natural instinct to survive and weighed down by a terrible sense of guilt.

He'd died because of her. She would never forget that first and last smile he gave her, one she didn't deserve. But what really made Lili hate herself were the tears spilling from her eyes that weren't for him, but ones formed out of self-pity.

Why? Because she wanted, so desperately, to live? Because he wasn't...real?

"_Stop right there!" _A shot pierced her ears, so loud and close for one terrible moment she thought it had made home. Gripping the cross tighter so it dug into her palm, Lili closed her eyes and thought of a country, any country that wasn't here.

When she opened her eyes, she was in Serbia.

The place reeked. That was her first thought. She was in a bathroom, a blatantly obvious fact.

The second thing her brain registered was voices.

"Why are you disagreeing with every bloody thing I say?"

"I didn't choose to sit with a bunch of idiots!"

England and Romano, Lili recognized. Why were they talking to each other in such a...regular manner?

"What sort of presumption is that? You barely even know me!"

"The sight of those furry monsters on your face are enough proof, you tasteless bastard."

"Why, you-"

"Guys, don't fight!" Italy's voice cut in. "Lovi, we need to work together if we want to go home!"

A seedling of an idea planted itself in Lili's mind. Could it be...?

"Yeah, Artie," America supplied. "You can be really immature sometimes."

"_You're _one to talk! And for the millionth time, my name is _Arthur. _Why must you insist upon calling me that absurd nickname?"

Not England. Not the United Kingdom, not Britain, but Arthur. Just Arthur. Lili stepped out of the restroom into an empty diner. Empty, that was, except for five people sitting at a table. They all looked up when she appeared, startled.

"I thought you said you checked the place," England hissed.

"I did!" America said, blue eyes wide as he gawked at Lili. "I swear the bathroom was empty."

"Perhaps you forgot your glasses and overlooked certain areas?"

"I had them on the whole time. Don't look at me like that!"

"...Idiot."

They continued to stare at Lili in silence. Then England laughed forcefully. "Er...hello, Liechtenstein. We were just...talking. About my dream. I was some bloke called Arthur. Isn't that hilarious? Ha, ha!"

America groaned.

"I'm not Liechtenstein," Lili said.

"Excuse me?"

She took a deep breath. "My name is Lili Zwingli." The cross grew heavier in her hand. "Liechtenstein is dead."

. . . .

Antonio knew he was alive. For one thing, his arm hurt like hell. For another, he was pretty sure the dead didn't have songs in their heads on eternal replay. And even less likely, _French _songs.

_Mais d'où vient_

_L'émotion étrange_

_Qui me fascine_

_Autant qu'elle me dérange_

_Je frissonne poignardé par le beau_

_C'est comme_**(1)**

Something heavy was pinning him to the ground. He dragged himself from the wreck his detonator caused and gasped at the fresh air. Cradling his arm, Antonio stumbled down the tunnel to the ladder and climbed out into the daylight. He blinked at the circle of weapons aimed at him, as well as quite a few pairs of angry eyes.

"Perdón**(2)**, I have to go," he apologized to the chilly silence, and allowed his eyes to slide shut to the immediately following Japanese curses that his mind twisted into a stream of foreign babble.

_Dans l'âme le couteau_

_La blessure traverse mon c__ ur_

_Et j'ai_

_La joie dans la douleur_

_Je m'enivre de ce poison_

_À en perdre la raison_

Germany's base in Hamburg was eerily quiet. Antonio found the cause when he opened a door to a pile of bodies. It looked like someone had taken out a machine gun on them. Bile rose to his throat at the gruesome sight and he quickly shut the door, trying not to think of the smell. Who was powerful enough to break into the German's heavily guarded base and take out all his soldiers? Antonio didn't want to find out

The doors to the operation room were slightly open. Not a good sign. He entered and stared at the sight before him. Slumped against the wall was Germany. Blood flowed from a wound on his chest and his pale blue eyes were open, unseeing.

"Germany!" Antonio rushed to the nation and shook him by his shoulders. When the German didn't respond, he checked for a pulse.

There was none. Defeated, Antonio sat back on his heels, the slightly burned but otherwise intact USB tumbling out of his fingers. It made a dull clunk when it reached the floor, a physical representation of his own declining hopes.

Antonio jumped to his feet as a horrible feeling came to him. What if the killer was still here? He removed Germany's gun from its holster and silently crept out the room, listening for any sudden noises.

Someone grabbed him from behind and pressed the cold metal barrel of a gun to his head. His attacker chuckled, and Antonio's eyes widened at the sound.

"Y-You...?"

. . . .

"So there's six of us?" Alfred asked.

"No," Lovino muttered. "There should be more." He stared at the table, lips set in a hard line.

"What's wrong, Lovi?" Feliciano asked gently. The Italian always seemed to know exactly what his cynical brother was feeling, though to Arthur Lovino's constant trademark scowl was the only emotion he ever expressed.

Lovino sat back, looked away and made a noise out of discomfort. "It's just that Spanish idiot. He's...I don't know. I have this feeling that something's wrong."

"You're worried about him," Arthur said.

"Shut up," Lovino snapped, but he didn't deny it.

Prussia looked troubled himself. "We better go find him before anything bad happens. Every player counts, after all."

In that moment, something inside Arthur shifted. He had a strange feeling– the kind of feeling that came to you when you missed the ball or grabbed empty air. Something was off.

"Where do you suppose he is, Lovino?" Kiku questioned.

"He should be in your country, or America," Lovino answered. "The potato bastard sent him on a death mission to steal some files from the Osaka military base. Don't take offense, Kiku."

The Japanese teen inclined his head to indicate the words had made no impact on him.

"West told him to do this?" Prussia repeated.

"Yes, that's what I said," Lovino answered irritably.

"Okay. Just clarifying." Prussia sat back in his seat.

"We'll find the dude," Alfred assured the Italian. "Me and Kiku'll look for him."

"I don't think I've ever asked," Arthur said, restraining the urge to correct the American's grammar, "but why exactly are you helping us, Prussia?"

Prussia looked amused at the question. "Would you believe me if I said it's because I'm a good person?"

"No."

The German laughed. "Thought so. The honest reason would be that I am awfully bored."

Arthur hadn't been expecting much more than that, but it was still an unsatisfying answer. "I thought it'd be because you would have something to gain."

Prussia grew thoughtful. "I haven't told you guys the rules of this world yet, have I?"

"Wasn't it, 'Don't die?'" Alfred said.

"No, there's much more than that." Prussia suddenly stood. "Sorry, my friends, but I have something I must do. I'll be back soon."

After Prussia left, Arthur questioned, "Lovino, how is it that you aren't affected by the identity confusion?"

"If you mean waking up with a load of bullshit in my head, I was," Lovino answered. "What, did you guys end up like Feliciano?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, wincing at a disturbing memory. "Hey, Lili, you seem okay, too. What's your story?"

"I woke up and found myself here," the girl of the group replied. "I...well, I'm just me, I guess."

"I have a theory," Kiku said. "Arthur, Alfred, Feliciano and myself were all strongly influenced, and we also play major roles in the war. Lovino represents South Italy, which wasn't as involved as the northern region, and he was perfectly conscious of who he was. Lili represents Liechtenstein, a country completely uninvolved due to its neutrality, and presumably destroyed."

"So you're saying that the more the country is affected in the war, the heavier the influence of the false identities," Arthur said.

"That makes sense," Lili agreed. She hesitated. "I have to tell you guys something."

The other five looked at her expectantly.

"I met Switzerland while wandering around, and he told me to look for Austria," she continued. "After I found him, he said that the Error was Russia."

"So it _is _that bastard," Alfred said with disgust.

"We still need to confirm this," Arthur said. "Listen, I have a plan..." The next fifteen minutes, he explained what he thought they should do.

The bells hung above the diner entrance jingled softly, signalling Prussia's return. The German approached their table and sat back down. "What did I miss?"

"Greece," Arthur replied, and Prussia grinned.

"Are you okay?" Feliciano asked, out of the blue.

Prussia blinked at the question. "What do you mean?"

Feliciano pointed at a bruise on the Prussian's temple, partially hidden by a shock of platinum blond hair. "You're hurt. Did something happen?"

Prussia touched the bruise absently. "Oh, this? I accidently knocked my head on the way back when a telephone pole collapsed. Nothing serious."

Arthur was pretty sure that could send people to the hospital, but extra durance was probably some privilege of being a nation.

"Arthur has suggested that we hear Greece's side of the story before we come to any conclusions about Russia being the Error," Kiku said.

"Makes sense," Prussia decided. "So what's up with the idea that it's Russia?"

Alfred opened his mouth to speak, probably a nasty insult, but Arthur spoke before the words left the American's lips. "Lili was informed by Austria about it." He paused, feeling uneasy. "At the very beginning of the game, we were told that we had three days to find the Error. Almost two days have already passed. What do you suppose will happen when our time is up?"

"We die?" Alfred suggested nervously.

"Remember when I said I hadn't told you the rules?" Prussia said. "You see, we NPCs don't know who the Error is, either. Apparently after time runs out, the Error is allowed to kill the players."

It was an unsettling fact. A shiver traveled down Arthur's spine.

"We have to get on with it, then," Lovino said. "We've only got a day left."

"Yes," Prussia agreed. "One day left."

. . . .

"I won't kill you," his attacker promised. "All I need are the files."

Antonio almost handed the USB and folder over, but something made him think twice. Suddenly, he wasn't so sure that the files were just weapon data. What information was so important that Germany had told him, four times, that he must obtain, no matter the cost? And why did this person, who was holding him at gunpoint, sound so desperate?

Antonio jabbed his elbow into the person's stomach and wrenched away as his attacker's hold loosened. The masked person raised the gun to fire, but Antonio grabbed the guy's hand and jerked it upwards so the shot was harmless. He wrestled with the person and managed to land a blow on the other with his own gun. As the guy grunted and clutched at the sore spot, Antonio turned and ran.

He locked himself in an experimenting room and closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he was still in the same place. Deep down, Antonio knew he'd expected this. Maybe it only worked when you were out in the open.

Antonio plugged the USB into a computer and brought out the files. As the information was downloaded, he flipped through the papers. They were mostly photos, each with accompanying paragraphs that served as supporting facts. The information seemed to be proving something. As he skimmed through the papers, gradually he began to understand what they were trying to prove.

A beep indicated that the downloading had finished. Antonio clicked on the file and a single image popped up, accompanied by one sentence.

And then he knew.

Antonio removed the file and tore the papers to pieces, just as someone began pounding on the door.

_End of Chapter Thirteen_

* * *

**And there you have it. 2199 words. The story is moving along a lot slower than I thought...**

**But we're getting close. Nonetheless.**

**(1) Le Bien Qui Fait Mal: One of my favorite songs, by Mozart Le'Opera Rock. It's called "The Good that Hurts" in English.**

**(2) Perdon: Sorry.**

**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. :) I won't be updating for a little while because I'm going to Spain tomorrow. Ten days.**

**TOMATO BURGER, I AM COMING FOR YOU**

**See ya!**

**...x Whitlinger x...**


	14. Lisciare

**Chapter 14: Lisciare**

_Lisciare_

_Owner: Feliciano Vargas_

_World 1_

_Type: Beretta M9 (semiautomatic pistol)_

"Hey, Alfred?" Arthur said, as they walked through the streets of Athens.

"Yeah?"

"I have a feeling something really bad is going to happen. So…watch your back, alright?"

"Sure," Alfred answered. "You too."

"I know." Arthur's hand shifted to his rifle and he felt a pang of something very close to fear. "And be careful with Russia. Don't do anything stupid."

The American turned to Arthur and gave him a reassuring smile. "Hey, man, you don't have to worry about me. Everything's gonna be fine."

After Alfred went back to chatting with Feliciano, Kiku approached his best friend. "Arthur, is something bothering you?" Kiku asked. "You've been acting strange ever since we left Serbia."

Arthur tilted his head back and stared up at the dead gray sky. A light rain had begun to fall, the drops pattering against his skin, each soft as a kiss. "It's nothing," he said at last. "Probably just my nerves. Come on, let's head inside."

The military base in Athens was painfully conspicuous compared to China's. No one was guarding the doors, so they just went inside. Besides a sleeping guard and half a moldy doughnut lying in a corner, the entrance room didn't pose much of a threat.

"You need a five-digit code to get in," Alfred observed. "Kiku? Artie? You guys can crack it?"

"Arthur," the British teen corrected tersely, running his fingers across the buttons. "And yes, it's 83716." He explained proudly, "You can tell by the stiffness of the buttons and the worn numbers, as well as the smudges on the..."

"We get it, Sherlock," Alfred cut in. "Let's hurry up before we're pita. What?" he said, at the look Arthur was giving him. "You know, before we're toast? Pita? Greek food?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Whatever. After you, Jones."

There was something unnerving about the lack of security in the base. Nothing living was in the hallways, and the lights were too soft to give off a cozy demeanor. It was the perfect recipe for an ambush.

Despite the fact that the place didn't appear suited for military purposes, it was frustratingly large and equally so to navigate. Prussia seemed to be the only one who half knew where he was going. When they finally reached the operations room, before any of them could do anything, the door opened. A disheveled Greece stood in the doorway, no more surprised than he was exuberant.

Arthur said, "Aren't you going to ask?"

Greece stared back at them with tired green eyes. Then he shrugged. "What's there to question? You broke into the safest place in my country with a couple of enemy countries, which definitely isn't because I'm a militarily powerful nation with the power to destroy the world."

"Don't you even care?" Lovino asked incredulously. "With our numbers we could easily defeat you and blow up your whole fucking country."

"Lovi!" Feliciano cried. "Don't say things like that! W-We're all friends, right?"

"It's fine," Greece said, rubbing at his eyes wearily. "He's just stating a fact. The truth is, I don't think I care anymore. This war isn't between Germany and my country; it's all power play between the bigger nations."

Greece was right, England thought guiltily. During the war, he hadn't even checked once how the European country was doing. He'd been more worried about when America would decide to bomb his country and be done with it.

"We just need you to tell us your side of what happened that led to the war, Mr. Greece," Lili said, almost gently.

"There's not much to tell," said the south European country. "It was all very sudden; my boss told me that Germany had been bombed, and that his boss was blaming my nation. I checked the arms and weapons imports into my country, but there weren't any unusual contracts. There wasn't anything in the military data, either, so we figured it was a sham. But then it happened again, and this time Germany put his foot down. That's basically it."

"Did anything unusual happen during those months?" Kiku inquired.

Greece thought for a moment. "There _was_ something strange. Come in, I'll show you."

They followed him inside the room and he sat down in front of a monitor, typing something into the system. The screen blinked and loaded a list of export records.

"Right here," Greece said, hovering the mouse over one of the records. "There was an order of grenades by Germany, but the signature on the contract says Russia. Isn't it weird that a country with a strong military would request weapons from my country? From Germany, too."

"I don't think that's even legal," Arthur said. He leaned closer to the screen, squinting at the pen marks on the contract. "Say, doesn't that signature seem odd to you?"

"It looks fine to me," Prussia commented.

"Well, there we have it!" Alfred said, with a note of finality. "He's the one."

Arthur frowned. He still thought something wasn't right about the signature.

"Does that mean we can go now?" Prussia said, sounding bored.

"Yeah, it's getting late," Lovino added. "And we still don't know where the hell Ant-Spain is."

"Fine," Arthur said, giving in, and at the look on Alfred's face, "But we're not confronting Russia today. It's late, and we need our energy."

"Yeah, okay," the American agreed reluctantly, pouting. Only slightly, but enough to make Arthur wonder if his mental age was higher than 10 years old.

Greece gave them a puzzled look. "What are you guys talking about?"

"We need to ask Russia something," Kiku explained. "Thank you for your help, Greece. How is your country doing?"

"Not as bad as the other European countries," Greece answered. "I'm just a bit short on money at the moment."

"I feel you, man," Alfred said empathetically.

Lovino cleared his throat. "Can we please hurry the fuck up?"

"Alright, alright," Arthur said, exasperated. "If you don't mind, Greece, we'll be spending the night in Athens. I really hope your country makes good tea; I'll be needing lots of it."

. . . .

Antonio knew he was in trouble when the door slid open without a sound and the person stepped in, eyes burning fire.

"It's you," the Spaniard heard himself say, in a surprisingly calm voice. "_You're_ the Error."

"Yes," the other replied, spreading his arms. "Me."

"I don't understand how all this can happen," Antonio said, "But I've won. This game's over, isn't it?"

A long silence passed as the person stared at Antonio, his upper face still hidden beneath a mask. Then his lips curved into a smirk and he laughed coldly, a chilling sound that turned Antonio's blood to ice. "Oh, no," the Error said, that malicious smile still carved into his face. "It's only just begun."

Antonio reached forward and lunged for him, but the person dodged the move and swiftly left the room, shutting the door behind him with a dull bang. Antonio followed after, but when he stepped outside, the Error had already gone.

. . . .

"They're gone."

"What? Where?"

"I don't know," Alfred answered. "I woke up and they just weren't there anymore."

"They must have gone to look for Spain." Arthur bit his lip, troubled thoughts of what might happen racing through his head, each worse than the previous. "Shit, what do we do now?"

"This is our last day," the American reminded him helpfully. "We gotta find them."

"Thank you for your input, Captain Obvious," Arthur snapped, speaking harsher than he meant to. "I think we need to split up. I'll go find them, while the rest of you deal with Russia."

"You are forgetting Spain," Kiku said. "How about I look for him, to make your task easier?"

"And I'll go beat the living daylights out of Russia," Alfred said, with a grin that Arthur didn't like.

"Be careful," Arthur said, repeating the words he'd uttered the day before. "Don't get yourself into anything."

"Hey." The American's grin softened, and, out of the blue, he reached forward and wrapped Arthur in a hug.

Arthur pushed him away, spluttering. "W-What the hell was that for?"

"I'm sorry!" Alfred squeaked, his cheeks bright red. "I...I don't know where that came from..." He looked down at his hands, as if unsure if they belonged to him.

Arthur sighed. "Forget it. Lili, you stay close to Prussia, okay?"

The Swiss girl nodded, but when the others weren't looking, Arthur saw her shoot Prussia a nervous glance. The Prussian grinned back, red eyes glinting.

"See you guys in World 2," Alfred said as he walked away, waving a hand.

"Alfred?" Arthur called, staring into the distance, where the golden fingers of the early morning sun reached out between the mountains and set the sky aglow.

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you there, too."

The American teen looked back and flashed one last, brilliant smile. "Definitely."

. . . .

"L-Lovi, I'm scared..."

"I know. It's going to be okay, you hear me? It's going to be okay."

"H-He's going to come back, Lovi. He'll kill us."

"I won't let him touch you. Just hang in there, fratello. I'll...I'll get us out of this place, I promise."

"It's so d-dark..."

"I know, Feliciano, oh God I _know_."

. . . .

"Kiku, you're my best friend and I want you to never, ever blame yourself for any of this," Arthur said, once Alfred had gone.

"Where did you get that idea?" Kiku sounded surprised.

"You talk in your sleep." Arthur smiled, half apologetic, half sheepish.

"What do I say?" Kiku asked, almost warily, and for once the boy in him showed.

"Not much," Arthur answered truthfully. "Just bits and pieces about the game."

The Japanese boy didn't speak for a moment. Then his eyes lowered and he sighed. "I created this game, didn't I? If I hadn't, none of this would have ever happened."

"No," said Arthur, "if you hadn't, we wouldn't be friends."

Kiku raised his eyes and, to Arthur's surprise, his lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. The Japanese opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur cut him off, "Don't apologize, there's no time for that. A certain Spaniard is waiting for you."

Kiku inclined his head slightly. "Then I'll be on my way."

"Good luck," Arthur called, and his best friend left. The British teen turned to Prussia with a scowl. "You, keep Lili safe."

"Yes, of course," the Prussian smirked. "The awesome me is awesome, after all."

"You don't say," Arthur muttered under his breath. Something glinting in the sun caught his eye and he approached the object. It was Lovino's phone. The sight of it gave him a bad feeling and he got the eerie sense that he was being watched.

I must be losing my mind, he thought. Arthur pocketed the phone and headed off, wondering what the future had in store for all of them.

"Incarceration or redemption?" Arthur muttered absently. "This bloody hellhole or London?" He decided it would make a good beginning for a poem one wrote when trapped in the game of a maniac.

Even now, even after being blown up by practically a stranger and watching that very same person bleed before his eyes, he still wondered if everything was just a dream. Why did this happen to him, of all people? Was he guilty of some unknown crime, and being punished with a death game? Were they _all_ guilty? He realized, suddenly, that he didn't know anything about the other six. He didn't even know that much about Kiku. How could anyone possibly know with a shield of unpenetratable black eyes that disguised the shadows?

Lovino's phone ringed sharply, jolting Arthur out of his thoughts. He brought the iPhone out of his pocket and turned it on. It was a new email, from someone named Antonio. g

Antonio, he thought. Wasn't that a Spanish name? So this was Spain, the seventh and possibly final player. He opened the email and scanned the contents. There was an attachment included, so he opened the file.

As his mind processed the image and words, Arthur's eyes widened and he dropped the phone. Suddenly everything made sense: the uneasy feelings, the signature, the sense of being watched.

They'd made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

_Alfred._ That was his first thought. Wildly he traveled to Russia, but he couldn't find Alfred in any of the major cities. Think, you idiot, Arthur told himself. Where would Russia be halfway through a war?

Spain. Of _course_. This time of the year, the sunflowers were almost ready to harvest. Blindly he teleported himself to Sevilla, and there the American was, two hands gripping a gun aimed directly at Russia's head.

"Alfred, stop!" Athur heard himself yell, his voice an octave higher than normal. "We were wrong! He isn't the one. The Error is _Prussia_!"

It was too late. Alfred pulled the trigger and fired.

_End of Chapter Fourteen_


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